The Silver Dovah
by NevaRyadL
Summary: Vilkas meets and is saved by a mysterious older warrior in the woods. And with the old man's arrival, a slew of misadventures begins and perhaps somewhere along the line there is some romance. ((Warning, contains M/M content, which means two men loving each other. If you are not okay with this, then please, DO NOT READ this story. Haters, trolls, flamers will be ignored))
1. Chapter 1

When faced with a difficult fight in which death seems imminent both Human, Beast and Mer alike are faced with two age old instincts.

The first being 'fight', in which many fight to either their death or their enemies' death. This instinct is often chosen when it seems like there is a chance for victory or the attacking party is exceptionally reckless or even if the party is actually seeking 'honorable' death in battle. Though 'fight' just leads to rather messy deaths, lots of blood and lots of butchered bodies. Though the overall end result is much more spectacular, the end tragedy is usually not worth it.

In a sense, 'fight' leads to epic ballads of bravery and honorable deaths, it also leaves the 'heroes' and the 'villains' dead, leaving a bitter taste to the tale.

The second is to take 'flight', a much more popular choice as it more often than naught guarantees one's life for at least another battle. The instinct merely provokes the party flee from the imposing danger. And in some cases the fleeing party merely takes flight simply to fight again another day after some better preparations or gathering of strength.

And again, though this reaction to a situation can often label the fleeing party as a coward or cause a loss of honor, it has a much higher chance of guaranteeing someone's life.

These reactions are inbred even in the strongest of warriors, the mightiest and smartest of mages and the sneakiest of thieves and cannot be denied. As the mightiest of warriors, smartest of mages and cleverest of rouges have yet to find a way to go against these instincts. It is impossible to resist them, no matter the strength of will or mind.

So Vilkas, who was supposed to be a shining example of the bravery of the Companions, felt no loss of pride as he dashed down the hill, a white knuckled grip on the straps of Ria's armor as he dragged the poor girl behind him and away from the three Trolls chasing after them.

"Just my damn luck" He grumbled, fighting to go as fast as he could without tripping on his own feet. Tripping and falling now and then being devoured or mauled to death was the last thing needed after already running cowardly from the Oblivion damned things. Ria was going to give him passive-aggressive Oblivion jabs for this, not that she was complaining now.

He wove through a few trees and then leapt over a fallen tree without managing to get Ria snagged or getting the dragged along girl's legs banged against the tree. It really was an impressive feat considered the sheer leg strength needed to do the stunt, but right now he was more focused on getting out of this predicament alive then being a stuck up ass like Njada. Being alive would be a much more impressive act then his jumping.

There was a road ahead that the knight was aiming for that was patrolled by guards, and while it was highly plausible that they would not be happy about two Companions bursting from the forest with three Trolls on their tails, it was just as likely that they would help slay the beasts. Sure, there would be Oblivion about it later, Kodlak would be sure to give him a good long lecture about it, but it was all preferable to dying.

He saw the clearing between the trees off to his side and went for it before even considering that town was straight ahead. Blood was pumping too quickly for thoughts to be made sense, even for him, and flight was in full control. Thought lost priority to survival, as it usually did when the mind was faced with death. At this Vilkas made what probably would have been a fatal mistake of taking the wrong turn.

Vilkas nearly tripped over his own feet taking the necessary sharp turn, and nearly went tumbling down the hill because of Ria's added weight and his off center of gravity. But miraculously he did not and made a clear shot for the clearing, taking off with impressive speed with the considerable weight he was carrying in both himself and Ria. But again, he figured living was more important than taking some pride in his rather impressive feats of late. Maybe if he got out of this alive, he would go get plastered with Tovar and brag about his feats later… if he lived.

Looking back he saw the Trolls as they fumbled over themselves with the turn, with some rather humorous slipping and sliding over themselves. It didn't take them long to regain their footing and were soon after them and gaining fast. Trolls were tricky like that, you would think that climbing a cliff or a tree would be safe and the tough little buggers would be right after you, nearly defying gravity trying to get to you. Or perhaps these ones were just a particularly stubborn lot.

Focusing, Vilkas just continued running anyways. At some point she managed to get away from his iron clad grip, just to grab onto his arm and run after him with her own legs. It certainly saved him a bit of energy from having to drag her down the hill, but now he had to deal with her shorter and less powerful legs not being able to keep up with him and the painful grip on his arm. There was not much a difference in speed so much as peace of mind and comfort on the knight's end.

He glanced back once more to see that the Trolls were gaining, and fast. The little fuckers were persistent, Vilkas had to give them that at the very least, but he sure as his heart beating in his chest that he was not going to die to them. He decided to focus solely on the path ahead of them and looked ahead just in time to see a dark shape appear between the trees. It was big, bulky and as far as he could see it looked dangerous.

"Fuck my luck" He groaned.

Vilkas had thought his luck was already poor enough when those three trolls had nearly ambushed them and then decided to give chase for so damned long. It was bad when they had gotten lost trying to get away from the Oblivion damned creatures. Worse when they thought that they would likely be killed by said creatures. Now worse had turned into a really bad thing, they now had to face whatever creature that was in their-

"Duck boy!"

The knight went to his knees purely on instinct, dragging Ria down with him, skidding past the dark shape right as a giant sword swung right above his head. The sound of a sword sinking into troll flesh mingled with Ria's scream as it caught and knocked the helm from her head. Also the sound of blood licking the air and of the steel of his armor scraping across the ground, it was a strangely pleasing melody considering the terrible day Vilkas had been having.

He skidded to a halt and swiveled around on his knees and saw the cloak of a stranger flutter into the line of trees, stepping over the body of a decapitated Troll corpse. A roar rippled through the air, followed by the sound of some liquid licking the air and then quickly followed by the sound of something heavy falling to the ground.

"Who the hell was that?" He muttered aloud.

"Don't know," Ria panted, wiping away stray drops of Troll blood from her cheeks as she got to her feet.

With a heavy thump, a Troll head tumbled through the clearing and landed next to the limp Troll body and a certain bitter tasting silence, colored the air. Several moments of waiting, of holding their breaths to see if their savior had lived, yielded no fruit.

"Was he…?" Ria started, breaking the silence.

A large shadow appeared between the trees and they both sprung to their feet with their respective weapons drawn, expecting the last Troll to come down on them with a vengeance for his lost companions. However they were pleasantly surprised when the shadow asked in a rather human voice

"You two pups alright?"

Their savior stepped from between the trees, sheathing his giant greatsword.

"Yeah, thanks for that save," Ria sighed, putting away her sword.

With their lives in no apparent danger, Vilkas finally got a look at their savior.

It was a man, a Nord actually. His choppy jet black hair was graying at his temples and thinning slightly with age, and there was faint age lines at the corners of his eyes and around his mouth that made him look like that roguishly handsome dad that was always smiling… not like a man that could single handedly take out three Trolls. Surprisingly though, he was taller than Vilkas and broader with muscle then even Farkas, making him a very larger Nord, with a suit of studded armor that was stretched across his rather impressive muscles and left the skin of his arms bare, displaying his sun kissed color.

"No problem, I was out looking for trouble anyway," He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his tanned skin.

One of his vivid blue eyes was healed shut from a rather impressive scar spanning from his hairline to his jaw line, but for some reason he still looked like the loveable father figure of a quiet village. Nor did the scar deter from his fetching good looks, if anything it added a rather mysterious charm to them.

When the strange man caught Vilkas looking him up and down he flashed the knight a very charming and rather spirited grin that made Ria turn a bit pink. It seemed that the young Companion was quite enthralled with the man's looks and his skills.

"Khajiit got your tongue?" The old man laughed.

"I… uh…" Vilkas shook his head and straightened up, "It's been a long day."

"True enough, not every day a couple of pups grow the balls to take on three Trolls," The old man chuckled. "But I must say… I am rather impressed with how quickly you were managing to outrun them!"

"Is that a compliment or a jeer?" Vilkas retorted.

"What do you think, pup?" The old man grinned.

"I think you're an annoying old man," Vilkas snorted.

"Fair enough," The old man smiled mysteriously.

"What's a man like you doing out here anyway? Only adventures, creatures, and bandits usually wonder these woods," Ria interrupted. "And well… you seem a bit too seasoned for an adventurer, a bit too human for a creature, and a bit too kind hearted for a bandit."

The sultry look in her eyes and the purr of her voice suggested that she was deeply enthralled with his looks. Then again, Ria was still young and therefore did not know what a handsome face could hide. Vilkas knew all too well that a handsome face could hide ill intent or even an ugly soul, something he was not sure if he should warn Ria about that fact or not.

"Well, I am an adventurer," The old man grinned. "Fresh out of retirement, ready and raring to go."

"And why would you retire in the first place?" Ria asked sweetly.

It was about then that all the mirth and happiness disappeared from the old man's face and a sort of sternness and dark remembrance. Like something foul had come back up and he had gotten more than a taste. Like a nightmare from childhood and reared its ugly head once again.

And then it was smoothly covered up again, replaced with a smile that was too warm and too wide.

"Because," The old man replied cheekily.

"Oh, come on, you can tell me," Ria pressed.

"I could, but I'd rather leave myself an enigma for now. Speaking of, I need to run pups, see ya!" And with that, he was running with rather impressive speed away from them.

That left a rather baffled Ria and an exceptionally stunned Vilkas as to what or more accurately, who had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2

The walk back to Jorvashkr was quiet. Ria tried to start some idle chatter, however it was all centered around the old man and quite honestly? Vilkas did not want to hear about the old man when he was already thinking about him.

The old man was certainly interesting. An older man like that being able to take out three trolls out of nowhere? That was certainly an impressive feat, since the tricky bastards had taken two Companions by surprise. But… there was something off about him. When Ria had tried to pry answers from him, he had snapped shut and ran away. Like… like he was hiding something.

"I mean, older guys do like younger girls" Ria fluttered.

Sighing, Vilkas walked faster towards Whiterun in the distance.

Once he was there, he could hide in his room. Hide from everything, including Ria, enigmatic older guys, pesky trolls or even fighting. He just wanted to get away from everything-

"Vilkas? Vilkas" Ria pressed. Apparently the younger Nord had been trying to get his attention for a few moments, while the knight was lost in thought.

Sighing deeply through his nose, Vilkas looked over his shoulder to address the younger Companion.

"Yes?"

"I asked wither you think if you think that the man we met earlier today would join the Companions?" She asked, the eagerness of youth coloring her eyes.

Vilkas wanted to squash her hopes, to tell her that adventurers usually did not join the Companions because they never really settled down. Because he was sure that the old bastard was likely a heartbreaker, or at least in his youth. Maybe he was at this age, he certainly was a handsome fellow...

So he shrugged and turned forward again before starting to walk again with his shoulders slumped.

What could he say?

* * *

Long ago, he had made it quite clear to the Companions that when he went into his room and closed the door, he wanted solitude and nothing but. It had taken years of yelling, fighting and eventual barricading of his door until the lesson was learned. After all this time, he needed only to close his door and the world seemed to forget where he was, giving him precious solitude.

So, sitting in his room, slumped in a chair and stripped of his armor, he found himself totally and utterly alone and surrounded by silence and his thoughts.

He wanted to think about… something. Really… he just wanted to be alone.

Seeking a mindless task, he took a cloth and some supplies and started cleaning and maintaining his armor. Skidding on the ground had scuffed up his armor, and left dirt and mud caked on his armor. His hands worked while his brain remained idle, mindlessly scrubbing away the filth. When the filth was gone, he doubled checked the damage to see if it needed tending. Seeing it was just scratches, he left them lie.

With his armor cleaned… he sighed and realized that he had nothing to do. Maybe it was best that he went on a job…

Recently the stress of a failed relationship, the impending civil war and how it would affect Whiterun, how close the Circle was coming to tearing itself apart and then of course how unbearable the newer members were becoming with their cockiness. Not to mention his own beast blood continued to boil day after day, his caged beast, having lost all freedom, raging against the cage of the knight's mind.

Oh maybe… he was not stressed so much as… tired of it all…

_Knock, knock_

"Vilkas?" Alea called from behind the door.

"What?" He snapped back. He did not want to deal with the fiery red head today, not to mention she sure as Oblivion knew about him and his room.

"Don't use that tone with me! Kodlak wants to see you" She retorted behind the door. She sounded edgy and pissy, probably recently had a fight with Skjor.

While his problems were troublesome at best, not heeding a summons from Kodlak would only worsen his woes. Not to mention Kodlak was a clever old bastard, he would find a very subtle way to get back at Vilkas.

"Tell him I'm coming" He grumbled.

After some frustrated fumbling to get back inside his armor, as having it on seemed to make people think that he was really okay, he finally managed to make himself acceptable and trudged out of his room to meet Kodlak.

* * *

The old Harbinger was waiting for him, looking thoughtfully into space and his aged brow creased in thought as Vilkas approached him.

Vilkas took a seat next to him, awkwardly fidgeting for a moment before he too settled into a silent, statue like state, not quite sure what to do. Kodlak was usually the one to start the conversation between them, and he had been the one to summon the knight. So the old harbinger must have wanted Vilkas for something, right?

They sat like that for an awkward hour, neither saying anything. Several times Vilkas opened his mouth to start a conversation, to ask him why the reason the harbinger asked for the knight's presence, but the tense silence made him close his mouth again and continue to sit in silence.

Several times he thought Kodlak was about to say something, but then he remained silent and still. And several times Vilkas thought that Kodlak had died sitting up and had to wait patiently for the slightest movement of the old harbinger's chest in breath to see if he lived.

When they heard a racket upstairs, probably Njada picking a fight with someone again, Vilkas could not help but jump and let out the slightest gasp in surprise and Kodlak gave a short grunt of laughter that made Vilkas huff indignantly, which only made the old Harbinger laugh again. So Vilkas allowed a chuckle aimed at himself.

"So Vilkas" Kodlak finally said, "How goes it?"

Easy enough question, especially one that could be so heavily censored, so he answered readily.

"Well enough I suppose" He said "The division in the Circle worries me as always, what could happen if we grow hostile to one another, as well as the impending civil war and what could happened to Whiterun, and then how cocky the newer members are always acting…"

He realized he was rambling and quickly finished

"Stressed as always"

"Aye" Kodlak sighed "But how goes it with the curse?"

He thought a moment, thinking how to beautifully sum up the increased agitation, violent impulses, the wolf constantly howling for freedom at the back of his mind, and the complete envy he felt for Farkas having such an easy time with restraining his wolf.

"I'm managing" He sighed when Kodlak cocked a knowing eyebrow "But I still hear the call of the blood"

"We all do, it is our burden to bear, but we can overcome" Kodlak said reassuringly.

"We, you have my brother and I obviously, but I don't know if the others will follow was easily"

"We'll see" Kodlak said before turning to the door that lead from the hallway.

Leaning against the doorway, smirking like he had already won something, was the mysterious man that had saved Vilkas' hide earlier that day!

"We have a stranger in our hall" Kodlak smirked.

"Sorry, it looked like you two were having a serious conversation, I didn't want to interrupt" The man smiled before walking straight up to them and boldly asking "I would like to join the Companions, are you the one I talk too?"

Wait, what?

"Would you now? Here, let me have a look at you" Kodlak said as Vilkas gaped.

This... old man. This cheeky old man wanted to join the Companions. No. The very thought made the knight squirm for more reasons than one. And nothing would get done with this man around, Vilkas was sure of it. People would be drooling and slobbering after the man like bitches in heat. Not to mention… he did not need that incident to happen again. But then again, he was a bit of an older man, perhaps Kodlak would not be-

"Yes perhaps. A certain strength of spirit" Kodlak chuckled.

Shit, well then. Perhaps Vilkas should just step back? After all, of Kodlak saw something then there was something? But was it really worth it? Having a handsome older fellow like that all the time… especially when he had recently just had his heart broken?

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting him?" Vilkas asked, trying not to sound pressed.

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas" Kodlak scolded "And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts"

"Apologies" Vilkas muttered then quickly changed tactics "But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider"

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference" Kodlak countered "What matters is their heart"

"And their arm" Vilkas muttered, eyeing the stranger's thick bicep. He did cleave through a Troll with his massive greatsword.

"Of course" Kodlak agreed. He turned to the stranger and asked "How are you in battle?"

"I can handle myself" The stranger smirked confidently.

"That may be so. This is Vilkas" Kodlak said, gesturing to the fidgeting knight "He will test your arm"

Wait, what?! Not only did Vilkas not want to face the obviously experienced warrior, but he certainly did not want to be on the wrong end of that fucking troll cleaving greatsword.

"Vilkas, take him out into the yard and see what he can do" Kodlak said.

Vilkas wanted to protest, complain, whine, anything that would have gotten him out of testing the stranger. He wanted to go back and hide in his room, hide from his problems and the issues that the outside world seemed to hold in abundance. He did not want to watch closely to those muscles work, to see adrenaline make the old warrior's eye shine brilliantly. He did not want to hear his aged voice laugh in merry and see that heartwarming smile.

The knight opened his mouth to protest but Kodlak cocked a questioning eyebrow. And then Vilkas was caught between a rock and a hard place. He could pour his heart out to Kodlak and get fussed over like a child, or he could suck it all up and just deal with it. Oh the choices…

"Aye" He grumbled.

Vilkas got to his feet and started heading down the hallway, briskly passing the old man, though the heavy thumping of feet coming after him told him that the stranger was following right behind him despite his briskly set pace. Vilkas supposed it was only fair, since the man had longer legs.

"So, you're Vilkas?" The stranger asked amicably "My name's Gunnar, glad to see you got home safely pup"

So, finally he had a name to tack onto that handsome face. A strong name that perfectly suited the older man, 'warrior' as though the man could be anything but with that frame and skill. However, he was not going to let that deter him. The knight was already formulating a plan to stop Gunnar from entering the Companions. While Gunnar seemed skill, there was no way that a two handed warrior could beat a skilled one handed and shield wielding warrior like himself. Not to mention Vilkas had the advantage of speed and youth on his side. If he pressed himself, there was no way he could lose against the old man.

They climbed up the stairs, Vilkas' conviction only strengthened by the stares they garnered from the other Companions, the looks of surprise and delight surprise that heaped upon Gunnar, and then out the back doors and into the yard.

He went onto the stone practice area and drew his sword and shield.

"The old man said to have a look at you, so let's do this" Vilkas growled out.

Gunnar only grinned.

* * *

Okay, so I tried making Vilkas' attraction a bit more subtle this time around instead of his first super uke reaction. Also, I gave him an actual reason for not first accepting Gunnar's attraction other then 'Oh, he's too good for me' that I hinted in this chapter. Tell me what you guys think and thank you to all the lovely people that left a review of the first chapter. You guys are the best, seriously.


	3. Chapter 3

"Is that you're shield pup?" Gunnar asked.

Startled by the strange question, Vilkas said "Yes?"

Gunnar sighed almost disappointedly before unsheathing his massive greatsword, the very same that had saved the knight but hours earlier. As he gave it a few practice swings Vilkas could not help but note that it was an old fashioned steel greatsword that someone had taken pains to make longer, thicker and wider. The knight idly wondered if it was a unique weapon that the older Nord had made for himself, perhaps it had a name and enchantment.

The old man sighed again before going and leaning the steel beast against one of the training dummies, which lead Vilkas to cock a questioning eyebrow. What was the old man planning? Would he not use his favored weapon when trying to prove himself? What kind of warrior put down his own weapon?

"The damned thing would crush your shield and then you" Gunnar smirked confidently, answering Vilkas' questioning eyes, before reaching behind his head. His hand came back holding a basic steel sword that was completely concealed by the broadness of his shoulders and chest.

"This should work" He said, giving the sword a few slow paced practice swings.

Vilkas tore his eyes away from the flexing muscles and readjusted his stance, ready to launch into a fury of attacks and-

"Spread your legs some, pup"

Vilkas would have dropped dead right there, but was able to retain some mental capacity through raw fury and confusion alone.

"W-what?!" He snapped, cheeks starting to burn a bit.

Gunnar only chuckled

"I mean you're feet are too close together, as close as they are now you'll be a cinch to knock down" Gunnar explained good heartedly "I wasn't trying to be a pervert to you, or at least I won't at until you get to know you better"

Vilkas started to blush from embarrassment and indignation and his resolve to make it so this man did not join all the more hardened. He stubbornly kept his stance, after there was no way that he was going to admit that the old man was right, and bashed his sword against his shield. The resounding thud captured the attention of some off the Companions lounging about outside. Tovar, Athis and Alea soon became their audience.

"Let's go!" He roared.

He charged forward, lifting his shield and pointing his sword at the older Nord's chest. However, the old Nord simply took a step forward, smacked the oncoming sword away with his bare hand and then delivered a bone rattling kick to Vilkas' shield that sent him on his arse.

"Told ya" Gunnar grinned.

Vilkas realized that the man had just won… without using his sword and proving Vilkas had been wrong and then knocking him on his rump. And all in a matter of seconds, further humiliating him. Vilkas, warrior of the Companions, had just been knocked down by an old man.

The very thought of his quick and humiliating defeat sent indignant anger flaring up within him and the beast chose then of all times to unleash a burst of pent up anger.

Rage consuming him, Vilkas sat up enough to lash out with his shield and struck Gunnar's kneecaps. Apparently, that was unexpected as Gunnar took the blow. Unfortunately the blow was enough to knock his legs from underneath him, because Gunnar ended up on top of Vilkas. They ended up lying on the ground, Gunnar's weight pinning Vilkas fully to the ground.

Gunnar's face ended up right next to his, so close that his stubbly cheek rubbed against Vilkas' bearded one. His full weight was on Vilkas, the sheer heat coming off him only part of the reason for making Vilkas break out in a sweat.

Pinned underneath the older Nord, Vilkas had no idea what to do next.

What were you supposed to do with a delicious older man atop of you? Well the first thing Vilkas tried to do was NOT panic. Or even better, he tried NOT rutting against the warm body pinning him.

"That was totally uncalled for" Gunnar chuckled against Vilkas' ear, puffing warm and moist air long the shell and making the knight blush deeply.

He could not move, he could not find the will too, not with the gorgeous older man lying atop him, the heat coming off Gunnar quickly becoming in intoxicating. And the smell, so potent to Vilkas' sensitive nose, was a pleasurable mix of sweat, leather and something deeply masculine and musky. And even the weight was something to behold, the sheer mass of it pinning down, dominating really, Vilkas.

Now that his wolf wasn't howling in rage, as being pinned seemed to have shaken it up quite a bit, it seemed rather intrigued about Gunnar. Grudgingly agreeing that the older man was highly skilled and so very alpha like, even if that delicious smell of his was purely human.

Maybe it was his intrigued wolf, but…Vilkas did not want to move, did not want to become separated from this heat, smell, this man. He was even tempted to reach out and touch Gunnar's much wider and muscular shoulders. Maybe grab a hold of the older man's short hair and keep the two in this mess.

Gunnar managed to roll himself off Vilkas with a strained grunt and then sit up. The older man pulled one of his knees close to his chest and started kneading it tenderly.

"These are going to hurt like hell in the morning" He grinned through the pain before turning and chuckling at Vilkas "What are you staring at, pup?"

With the heat and smell gone, Vilkas suddenly found the thought process to shove down his now horny wolf and be mad at the older man, whom he had been staring dumbfounded at beforehand. The knight quickly got to his feet and glared down at the grinning older man, staring oh so innocently up at him.

"You may have passed but you're still a whelp to us" Vilkas snarled.

He turned and attempted to storm into Jorvashkr, only to see Alea blocking the way. Judging by the way she was smirking, she had found the whole match, amusing.

"What's the rush?" She asked only to be bluntly ignored.

Vilkas needed some serious alone time… and maybe some of the oil from the kitchen, but Alea didn't need to know that.

Alea turned to see the older man on the ground, messaging his kneecaps. He was grumbling judging by the way his lips were moving as his thick, calloused fingers messaged the toughened flesh.

It occurred to her that this man was the one to help take down that giant that had come too close to Whiterun. Or rather the man had come out of nowhere and sliced the giant's legs off with his greatsword, before grinning and laughing and introducing himself to the 'pups' and he had called them. His name was… Gunnar if she recalled right. The man did not disappoint, after Farkas pointed him towards the Companions. She made her way to his side, fully intent on greeting the finely aged warrior.

* * *

After about an hour of alone time, and yes with some cooking oil and many images of that blasted old man running through his head, Vilkas finally joined the others in the main hall. Sadly for him, Gunnar was there and loudly and drunkenly telling everyone about himself.

"Aye, I was a soldier in my youth" He said as both whelps and experienced Companions listened with adamant attention "And a damned good one at that"

"Was?" Athis asked as Gunnar gulped down a tankard of mead, his Adam's apple bobbing with each swallow.

"Was" Gunnar sighed, wiping his chin with his forearm "Got injured during a battle""

"You're eye?"

"Yep, fuckers told me that I would only be half the man I was, though they didn't refuse my help for the next five years" Gunnar chuckled, satisfied in himself.

"Then what did you do with yourself?" Farkas asked.

His own, damned brother too… Vilkas found himself deeply and utterly ashamed of the lot of them for drooling over Gunnar, though he was too ashamed to say anything and be called a hypocrite as he took a seat in the group and whole heartedly listened.

"What did you do with yourself afterwards?" Ria asked.

"Yes, what was that? Farming, hunting, or perhaps you were someone's husband?" Alea asked, batting her eyes innocently as Skjor glowered.

Damn, Alea was trying to snag the older Nord. She always had a thing for older men, if Skjor was anything to go by, and now it seemed the temptation of that finally aged man was too much for her to resist. Not that Vilkas blamed her…

"I really could not handle anything that wasn't fighting, so for awhile I became an adventurer, going where there was treasure and mysteries" Gunnar said nostalgically.

"Find anything good?" Njada asked, also looking quite interested in the older man.

"I found a lot of things, including treasures, adventures, people" He grinned at her, earning a girlishly smile and giggle from the otherwise brutal woman. "And when I found myself enough wealth to comfortably settle down, I took to farming a small plot of land in a quiet village"

"What made you pick up your sword again?" Farkas asked.

"Well… I guess this is where my story gets a little sad pups" He grimaced "A band of cocky bandits thought it would be a challenge to take on a small village of unarmed villagers and attacked"

He took a hearty swing of his mead, and upon seeing that he had the absolute attention of everyone, chuckled a little bit like he was dealing with eager children.

"Anyway, I took a pickaxe and took out most of them, a few of the others helping me along the way. We only lost a few animals, everyone got out with only a few injuries though one man lost a finger in the mess. Anyway, the villagers were surprised to see a man of my age was able to do with a pickaxe against heavily armed bandits. They insisted that I became their 'town guard' and made me this sword" He patted the massive greatsword that was leaning against the back of his chair "And for awhile I did that. But as you know, not every little village becomes big. I killed everything that threatened them, but too many years of failed crops and poor trade eventually made everyone pack up and move. And with no income to make either and my adventuring riches slowly dwindling, I also packed up and moved"

"What happened next?" Vilkas found himself asking.

"I drifted, took odd jobs and the like, found myself into and out of trouble, met people, heard so many stories" Gunnar sighed nostalgically "And then I was wondering the woods and happened across an Imperial ambush, which quickly dragged me into it"

"You got away?" Alea asked, somewhat confused.

"Yeah eventually… I was at Helgen" He finally admitted, throwing back another bottle of mead.

"You saw the dragon?!" Athis gaped.

Vilkas numbly listened to the flurry of questions thrown at Gunnar, not joining in on the almost fable like story he spun for everyone about the huge black dragon, fighting alongside the Stormcloaks and making his way to Riverwood and then… a quest for a Golden Claw?

Mainly because he was just so unsure how to feel about the old man. Gunnar seemed used to drifting wherever his fancy took him, so getting close to his sounded like… a hazard. The man would only likely stay with one person so long as the one person kept him interested or entertained. Or he would simply drift when he found he did not like the Companions. But… he also seemed to have a general heart of gold, as he did protect a little town and even kept a memento from them. Not to mention, despite being clearly more experienced and wiser than most everyone there, Gunnar did not gloat what he had, but rather shared it.

So… what did he think about the man?

The old warrior was just finishing up telling them about meeting Jarl Balgruuf when Kodlak joined them and started sending them all on jobs, joking saying that there would be time for 'Story Time' later.

Gunnar got a job out at Riverwood, settling a dispute between two parties and Vilkas got a job cleaning a home of skeevers in the Pale.

As Vilkas packed he realized that he felt conflicted. There… was definitely something inside of him that wanted to at least know the older man on a deeper level but at the same time he did not want him. He wanted to know more and wanted to ignore him. He yearned and loathed at the same time and it drove him mad.

He resolved to ignore the man, because Vilkas did not even know if he wanted to bother with the man anymore and certainly not after the older Nord humiliated him earlier that day. And if nothing else, ignoring the man would save his strained sanity and give a chance for Alea to swoop down on him like the man hunting predator she was.

And with his mind set, Vilkas packed the rest of the things he needed for his journey before setting out for the Pale.

* * *

Hello again pups. In this chapter I scrapped Gunnar's priest life because really? It was a stretch to begin with, and it really did make Gunnar... mary sue-ish in my mind at least. Plus this gives me room to give him years of misadventures rather then him going mad for years, it also gives me a few more points for Vilkas to anguish over. Well... I like it at least. Anyway, thank yous guys for all the reviews, follows, faves and even just reading this, it means a lot to me.

PS Due to a miscalculation in length, you guys will likely be getting another chapter here in a few hours. Enjoy


	4. Chapter 4

A month passed.

Gunnar quickly became popular among the other Companions for his cheerful personality and his near supernatural strength with his greatsword. He finished jobs in record time and always made sure to pick up any job that became available no matter difficulty or pay, clearing out the backlog of unwanted jobs. Unlike the other, newer Companions that only wanted elaborate, 'glory winning' jobs or jobs with minimal effort and maximum pay.

The older Nord also became rather popular around Whiterun as he helped resident. He shut up that annoying bard at the tavern, found a lost sword, killed bothersome bandits and generally lent his hand whenever one was needed. He also played with the children, helped the local shop keepers get 'harder to get' ingredients and even helped stop a few bar fights and petty thieves.

However, Vilkas avoided him like he had resolved unless the man came to him for a job. But even then he was strictly professional and generally avoided slobbering over him like Njada, Alea and even Ria seemed to do every time they were around the older Nord.

Those three took every chance to talk him up and down and trail after him like… like… like the 'pups' he called everyone. What was worse was that Gunnar seemed completely oblivious to them, smiling that heartwarming smile and talking back in the friendliest of tones.

And as if their first match never happened, Gunnar chatted amicably with Vilkas and always came to the knight first for jobs. The older man did not even seem dissuaded by Vilkas' gruff attitude and curt responses, and always took the job that was offered no matter the reward money or difficulty. He always got everything thrown at him done and came back smiling and as chatty and brass as ever.

Vilkas was hoping that his played distaste for the man would eventually turn him towards some other member of the Companions, anything to make fate stop teasing him with the aged warrior, but fate would have none of it, as the man persisted.

Fate was even crueler to offer incidents of temptations.

Such as the time Vilkas walked outside to find Gunnar stripped to the waist, his sun kissed muscles glistening with sweat and sparring with Farkas, who was in a similar condition. They were taking light swings at each other and Vilkas had become hypnotized by the fluidness of the movement of the older man's impressive muscles. He just could not help but stare.

The man moved like he was born to fight, his moves seeming fluid and effortless. There was experience in the way he feinted, blocked and jabbed, a thousand lost and won battles to sharpen his skills. The way the slightest smile lit up his face, just enough bravado but not an insufferable amount.

When the two finished up, deciding on a good hearted draw, Gunnar caught Vilkas staring and gave him a wide grin. Vilkas started, snapping out of his daze, and then quickly scowled with the intent to say something nasty… and then Gunnar yelled

"Ah come on! You know you want a piece of this!" And then stroked his muscular chest sensually.

Seeing those thick, calloused fingers work over those thick muscles, Vilkas had to quickly run away to hide his red blush.

The next incident was when he was forced to deliver the payment for a job to Gunnar. Apparently the old warrior had told Alea that he had done the job and then stumbled off to bed without taking it. She threatened to twist Vilkas'… _personal bits_… off if he did not. So the knight grudgingly agreed to do it first thing in the morning.

He went down to the whelp quarters, and found the door closed, which should have been the first warning sign that something was wrong, but pushed it open anyway… and found Gunnar in nothing but his breechcloth.

Gunnar's hair was a mess and his good eye was still bleary from sleep and his broad jaw dotted with morning fuzz… but there he was… in nothing but his breechcloth. And the thin fabric barely held any secrets from the ogling knight.

Despite yelling and screaming in his head that the knight had simply intruded on the old warrior right after he had woken up, nothing could change the fact that the older man was practically naked right in front of him. Strong, long legs perfectly muscular, a few barely noticeable scars, bare sculpted chest and his muscular arms all on display for any person's viewing pleasure.

"Morning pup" Gunnar had sleepily grumbled.

Vilkas had stared at him, completely oblivious to anything, until Gunnar loudly cleared his three times to finally garner Vilkas' attention. When the knight looked up at the older man's face, and not his god like body, he was faced with a sleepy but still sly smirk

"See something you like pup?" Gunnar smirked.

Vilkas tossed the coin purse at Gunnar and ran away, hearing Gunnar's rich laugh following him all the way up stairs. He could barely stand the sight of Gunnar without remembering that mental image, and each time his face grew a brighter and more vivid shade of red.

And then there was the incident that only lasted a short minute but still haunted Vilkas' mind for weeks afterward.

Vilkas had walked outside and found Gunnar's back to him, the older man facing Athis and Tovar. Gunnar was fiddling with something on front of him while Athis and Tovar stared with adamant attention. The knight was about to ask what in the name of Oblivion they were doing when the rather loud sound of a buckle being undone and then Gunnar said

"See? Mine is bigger"

Athis and Tovar muttered something and Vilkas ran to get something for his bloody nose.

Then Fate proved herself quite the bitch when Skjor came to him the information on another piece of Wuuthrad and sending the old bastard with Farkas.

* * *

"You can't be serious" Vilkas sighed, rubbing his temples.

"He's ready to become a full fledged member" Skjor said, obviously not happy about it either "Kodlak, Alea, even myself think he's ready for a test of honor"

"But with Farkas?" Vilkas protested, trying not to sound jealous.

"Because every whelp needs to be accompanied by a member of the Circle when proving their honor, however Alea wouldn't be able to concentrate around him, I don't like him, Kodlak is far too old and you've made it quite obvious that you can't even stand being in the same room as him. Or any least for more than five minutes anyway" Skjor explained with a roll of his eyes.

If only Skjor knew why

"Farkas has proven to be far better with people and let's be real Vilkas, Gunnar is an experienced fighter and could probably do it on his own"

Vilkas only sighed, realizing that fighting with him would be useless and arouse suspicion about his actual thoughts of the older man. Not to mention, it was unfair to not give Gunnar the chance to become a fully fledged member. The man was certainly worthy enough...

"When do they go?"

"I'll send them this afternoon after Gunnar finishes up with Njada in the training yard"

"What?"

"He's outside teaching her some hand to hand moves" Skjor explained "He's… actually a good teacher"

Vilkas thought for a moment and then went to watch.

* * *

"That's it, keep your shoulders square" Gunnar grinned, effortlessly blocking all of the hits Njada threw at him.

It seemed that every Companion and non-Companion was watching. Alea, Ria, Athis, Tovar, Vignar, Farkas and even Kodlak were watching from near the back entrance. Eorlund was watching from his forge, deciding to take a break to watch. A few citizens were watching off to the side, eyes glued to their beloved new comer as he faced against one of the lesser liked Companions.

"Don't just rely on the strength of your arms" Gunnar said "Fighting hand to hand is also speed and tactic"

Njada swung at him. Gunnar sidestepped and landed a light hit at her unguarded side. She grunted and stepped back quickly, holding up her arms in a more defensive position. She took a second to think and then stepped forward again, swinging at him again. Gunnar sidestepped but Njada immediately took a side step in the same direction, continuing her swing.

Then Gunnar swung his leg, sweeping Njada off her feet and sent her straight on her ass. She gaped up at him.

"And always remember that anything can happen in a fight" He smirked before offering a hand for her.

The crowd cheered, egging Gunnar on despite it only being training. There were even more love struck eyes the usual and though Vilkas was one of them, he could not help but think that Gunnar was more than likely old enough to be the father of most of them. Vilkas tried not to think of how the fact barely hampered the budding feelings he had towards the older warrior, or how it even seemed to make him feel that bit warmer around Gunnar.

"That was great!" Njada exclaimed… and then practically launched herself forward to steal a kiss from the older Nord's lips. However her efforts were intercepted by said older Nord's large and calloused hand.

"Now hold up girly" He chuckled, amused by her girlish enthusiasm despite her usual tough demeanor.

"What?" She asked, thoroughly confused.

"What? Why were you about to kiss me dear? I was just trying to sharpen your skills" He asked, still slightly amused but also genuinely confused.

"Ah come on old man" Njada grinned perversely "Don't tell me you haven't noticed how every smart woman here wants a piece of you"

"But I've already got my eye on someone else" He said.

* * *

Vilkas knocked back his forth drink, feeling the pleasant buzz at the back of his skull grow. He… could not remember when he started drinking, only that he had been at it for awhile and he could hardly feel all the mixed up turmoil in his head. Sure, he would feel like he had been on the wrong end of a Giant's club tomorrow, but right then and there he felt good.

Skjor came by and sat next to him, handing him another bottle before attacking a bottle of his own.

They sat drinking for a bit, both silent. Vilkas looked to a plastered Njada wailing her woes to a disheartened Alea, working on her way to the same condition. Ria did not seem that upset by the shocking news, but was still knocking them back faster than Alea.

"So… they went" Skjor said, placing the now empty bottle next to Vilkas'.

"Aye" Vilkas slurred.

"Girls seem upset" Skjor noted.

"Aye"

"…So, who do you think it is?"

"Who?"

"The lucky lady he's got moony eyes for"

Vilkas drank his mead.

He wanted to kill whoever was the person Gunnar wanted. He wanted to know who it was to want to know what attracted him, what was he missing to get the older man he so wanted. But he was not quite drunk enough to admit that to either Skjor or himself for that matter.

"Don't know… probably some older woman like that produce seller in the market" He slurred.

"…I don't know, he seems like the kind of guy that would pick a woman that was on par with him" Skjor said.

"Maybe…" Vilkas muttered, before reaching out and taking another bottle of mead off the table and drinking that one down as well.

"Then again maybe he's into weaker women or… maybe beast races, or even elves? Do you think he's into elves?" Skjor nodded slowly and Vilkas realized that Skjor was probably already tipsy by the time he had come over "Them elves sure can be pretty, like those wood elves, or those grey skinned ones"

"I don't know" Vilkas sighed.

"Maybe he's into guys?"

Vilkas just sighed before stuffing another bottle into Skjor's hands.

"I think you need another drink"

_Anything for you to keep giving me hope for the old hunk_

* * *

As promised, the second chapter. I did not really edit anything here, because this was one of the few chapters that I really like. Gunnar's personality as a loveable old bastard really shows, and Vilkas' attraction is still subtle, though still a bit super uke-ish. Anyway, night pups.


	5. Chapter 5

Farkas and Gunnar stood looking down the stone steps leading to Dustman's Cairn, both looking exceptionally unenthused about the task ahead. Then again, the butchered bandit body, leaning against the door was also a great indicator that something unpleasant lurked about. And how the blood was still semi-fresh did not ease their minds one bit.

"And what would a weapon fragment be doing in there?" Gunnar asked skeptically.

"Don't know, all we know is that the scholar told us it was in there" Farkas shrugged. The brute of a warrior did not understand why they wanted two Companions to go after a single fragment when the task could have easily been done with just one of them. But… then again this was probably their way of getting Gunnar's 'proof of honor' out of the way since it was blatantly obvious to even Farkas that the man was good.

"I just hope there aren't any Drauger in there" Gunnar sighed, unsheathing his greatsword and descending the steps with the steel beast leaning across his shoulder "I hate Drauger, just not natural, the dead walking and that long dead rotting flesh moving about"

"You've faced them before?" Farkas asked, falling behind the older Nord.

"Yes, remember that story I told you about that Gold Claw? The burial ground that the thief hid in?" Gunnar explained, pausing just long enough to shove open the rusty door to let himself and Farkas in "The place was crawling with them, along with bandits and Frostbite spiders"

"Hate spiders" Farkas muttered.

"Me too, especially when they're trying to kill me" Gunnar laughed, making Farkas smile.

They paused to investigate the first room, which looked like it had been tampered with recently despite being a supposedly ancient burial ground. There were open graves with bodies tossed out, ancient pottery smashed and kicked around. A few well used pickaxes lay about the ground, and there were foot prints in the thick dust that had yet to be touched with more dust. There were a few blood smears here and there, and a hastily scribbled map had been left on a stone table with X's here and there.

"I can see why everyone likes you" Farkas noted out of the blue, but good heartedly.

"Really? Everyone?" Gunnar asked skeptically "You're brother seems to hate my guts"

"Vilkas? I'm sure he likes you well enough, he just has this thing about trust" Farkas said as they advanced, bright yellow eyes sweeping the area "He doesn't open up until he knows he can trust you, I'm sure after this he'll be… at least a bit nicer. Not totally sure since the other whelps have been getting on his nerves as of late"

"I sure hope that he opens up to me" Gunnar laughed "Because with the way he's been acting… well it makes me think I kicked his puppy or something"

Farkas laughed as well, though for a different reason. He could see Gunnar being brave enough to kick Vilkas while his brother was in beast form, and it really was a funny image.

The two advanced into the ruins and sadly they did encounter Drauger shortly in. But with their combined might, the dusty old corpses were little more than hindrances and soon they were moving again. While the rasped breaths and voices of the undead still rang out through the quiet dungeon, it was more welcome then the unbearable silence a moment ago, and at least something was happening.

"For someone claiming to be fresh out of retirement, you're still pretty good with that sword" Farkas said as they dispatched another set of Drauger.

"Well, when I was a soldier most of what I learned was burned into my memory and my muscles" Gunnar said, pulling his sword from the dried guts of one of the corpses and then kicking it out of the way "It's just a matter of if I can get these old bones to do it is the problem"

"You can't be that old" Farkas said honestly. Sure, there were a few wrinkles here and there, and a bit of grey in the warrior's hair, but honestly he did not look that old.

"No, but I've put a lot of strain on my body in my youth and I was also put under a lot of strain from others, so I feel older then I look" Gunnar said, pausing to rub his neck "Especially in the morning, all I hear is the cracking of dry twigs when I move my joints".

"Strain?" Farkas asked.

"Yeah, too much fighting, drinking, heavy lifting and… maybe too much sleeping around" Gunnar grinned shamelessly.

"You… old horn dog"

"Ha! Ain't that the truth" Gunnar laughed "Just… don't tell anyone that I admitted though, I'll never hear the end of it"

Farkas let the matter drop with a smile as they entered another, though larger, chamber which was surprisingly Drauger free. The bulky warrior went to examine an oddly out of place alchemy table while Gunnar went to examine the other side of the room. Farkas noted that the alchemy table had been used recently… health potions and some poisons judging by the scents. Meanwhile Gunnar found tidbits of treasures that he collected up before looking some more.

"Poison and health potions" Farkas noted.

"Either sloppy and skittish bandits or a few skilled veterans" Gunnar said "Only youngsters make both if they think they can be sneaky but don't have the confidence that they'll get away unharmed. Veterans would make the poisons and then the health potions with the scraps"

"Right" Farkas said, surprised by the old man's logic.

Lapsing back into silence, they continued looking around.

The two had barely separated for three minutes before the heavy thud of an iron-gate slamming shut came from Gunnar's direction.

The small side room was a trap, likely ancient for the wondering treasure hunters or something more recent with the new inhabitants to trap wondering treasure hunters. Gunnar had thrown a switch to see if it would open any more doors, only to see that it had activated the door to the small side room instead, now he was trying to force the lever to the open position again.

"Shit! It's stuck!" He grunted, putting all his muscle behind the lever.

Farkas walked over to the gate and gave it an experimental shake. It was solid and he doubted that even together they could force it open again through sheer muscle strength. Gunnar was still trying, and it seemed like he could almost force the switch back the other way, but even the old man was not strong enough.

"Look what you've gotten yourself into" Farkas chuckled, making Gunnar smirk "Sit tight while I look for a way to get you out"

"Hurry will ya? I ain't into cages" Gunnar grinned, giving up on the switch.

Farkas turned around fully intent on finding a switch that would in turn open the side-room's door, or at the very least something to help them force it open. But he found himself faced with a group of people seemingly pulling themselves from the shadows. Judging by their scent, the eerie smiles on their faces and their silver swords… they were Silver Hand. Or some really prepared and opportunist bounty hunters. Farkas's septuims were on the former.

"Shit" Farkas cursed as they surrounded him.

"It's time to die dog" One sneered.

"We knew you'd be coming here" Another taunted.

"You're mistake Companion"

"Which one is that?" One said, jerking their chin towards Gunnar.

The old warrior glared right back, unsheathing his greatsword and letting the massive metal beast drop to the ground with a sound similar to rolling thunder, and then glaring so darkly his lone blue eye actually darkened. The old man actually looked rather intimidating and the Silver Hand hesitated but gathered their wits and pushed forward anyway.

"Doesn't matter, he's with the mutt so he dies" One said, bolstering their resolve.

"Killing you will make a find tale" Another sneered.

Trapped, Farkas saw little way out then use his cursed blood. Sure, if Gunnar was with him to fight then he would not even think of it, but Gunnar was trapped behind a gate. And on his own, he did not stand a chance. He may have been a good warrior, but he was not 12 on 1 good! Farkas had no choice then… he had to use his power, even if Vilkas and Kodlak had told him otherwise not to.

"None of you will live to tell it" Farkas growled.

Gunnar watched in horrified awe as the Companion seemingly doubled in size, dark brown fur bursting from his skin and his face elongated into something more akin to a wolf's muzzle.

And then the old warrior watched as the beast tore apart the Silver Hand with gory ease.

* * *

Vilkas, Skjor, Alea, Ria and Njada were all well plastered by the time the sun sunk below the horizon. And they were inebriated beyond all common sense and judgment by the time Farkas and Gunnar came back. The old harbinger was less then enthused about their state but still ushered the Circle outside to officially bring the Gunnar into the Companions. Tradition was tradition after all, even if people holding up the tradition were stone cold drunk. Or perhaps with the Nords' history of drinking, it was still within tradition?

The old Nord was outside, standing under the moonlight looking into the darkened skies. The silvery beams reflected beautifully off him and Vilkas and Alea openly ogled him as Kodlak gently nudged them into the right spots. And once the three managed to remain on their feet and keep their heads straight, Kodlak started the ceremony.

Vilkas however could not really concentrate and the words just passed through his befuddled and hazy mind. He only noted that Farkas was flicking his eyes between the plastered Circle members and then Gunnar as he said his lines. It seemed he had picked up that something was seriously wrong if they had gotten this drunk without him. Vilkas decided that he might tell his brother later… if he remembered. Maybe he would just shove a bottle of something strong into his brother's hand and say 'fuck it'.

The ceremony finished and Gunnar immediately stopped anyone from staggering off to bed, looking surprisingly somber.

"So, you all are werewolves"

Kodlak balked and then looked to Farkas for an explanation. Farkas looked at his feet and then off to the side. The harbinger sighed deeply before waving vaguely at Alea, Skjor and Vilkas.

"Help me get these drunken idiots to bed and I'll explain everything"

* * *

It should have been thrilling, the older Nord holding him tight and dragging him off to bed.

But, truth be told Vilkas couldn't get very excited over getting his drunken ass dragged off to bed. But at least he had one of the older man's thick arms wrapped around his waist and an arm draped across Gunnar's broad shoulders. He could have even blame his drunken state for leaning his head against his shoulder.

"I would have stayed if I had known that you guys would have started a party" Gunnar joked.

"Not much'a party" Vilkas slurred "We juust aaalllll started drinkin'"

"Must have had a reason" Gunnar pried. The old warrior paused to readjust Vilkas before painstakingly attacking the stairs, tightening his grip around his waist.

"Girls upset… about mooooooony eyesss" Vilkas explained. It sounded firm in his fuzzy mind.

"Huh?" Gunnar asked.

"They were… upset that yooou confesshed" Vilkas sighed, mindlessly rubbing his head against the glorious shoulder.

"Ah… well you can tell them that it's one sided for now" Gunnar said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to readjust Vilkas again before tackling the hallway.

"Whoo wooouldn't want yoou?" Vilkas mumbled.

"Apparently this person, I keep trying to win their favor but nothing seems to get through" Gunnar sighed, smirking a bit.

"Their blind" Vilkas slurred firmly, jutting his chin out.

Gunnar just gave him a grin before hauling the knight into his room. How Gunnar knew it was Vilkas' room and not his brothers was a mystery to Vilkas' pickled mind, so he let it slide as the old warrior gently laid him on his bed.

"Finally got you in bed pup" Gunnar smiled.

Vilkas turned bright red as his mind went down the gutter.

"Gunnar, I got Alea and Skjor in bed" Farkas said from some far off place… probably just outside the door but Vilkas was too drunk to tell the difference.

"That fast?" Gunnar asked.

"Alea just followed Skjor into bed… so don't disturb them till morning" Farkas sighed.

"Alright, get some sleep" Gunnar said with all the authority of a father.

"That sounds good after today" And then the sound of retreating footsteps followed his brother's voice.

Realizing that sleep would be the best for him as well, Vilkas started fumbling with his armor straps. Drunk as he was he still knew that sleeping in his armor would be extremely uncomfortable. However after several botched attempts, his hands were swatted away and replaced with larger, aged and much steadier hands.

"Let me pup" Gunnar smirked.

He had Vilkas stripped to his breechcloth in less than a few minutes and then tucked into bed like a child soon after. While he was really drunk, Vilkas did not appreciate being treated like a child… or at least he thought that so that the rush of blood south just seemed like drunken arousal. Or maybe just being half dressed in the presence of such a handsome man was the reason why? Still, no way in Oblivion was the old man getting any ideas from him.

"Good night pup" Gunnar smiled warmly.

"Night father" Vilkas murmured sarcastically.

He curled up into a ball under his blankets, not comprehending what he had said, even as Gunnar left his room laughing.

* * *

Not a lot of edits here too, just fleshed out quite a bit more and tweaked the ending a bit. Anway, thanks to all the people who keep reading/liking/following the story and me. Thanks and I'll see if I can push out another chapter here in a few hours.

PS My schedule is going to get weird on me here shortly, so I can't say for sure if chapters will either start coming out sooner or further apart. Please stick with me until I can get school and such together, and then a place to live and a job until summer.

Love ya pups


	6. Chapter 6

Gunnar sat watching the moon slowly make its way across the sky. It painted the black night with silver light and made the stars glimmer a bit more. In all… it was like the night was more alive than he had ever seen, brimming with life as though freed of some burden.

There was a lot for the old solider to take in on this beautiful night.

He was now part of the Companions, one of the most honorable fighter guilds across Skyrim, and was now part of a family. A family that also had some werewolves in it apparently… warring werewolves that were divided over wither or not the wolf blood was a gift or a curse.

Kodlak had explained everything to him, and nudging his fellow old timer got him to spill more on the subject. It seemed that the old Harbinger was more the willing to share his burden with an understanding soul, and Gunnar was more the interested.

"Interesting" He said into the night sky.

It was really interesting. Being a soldier he had seen lots of fighting and plenty of the most grotesque and mind altering things war had to offer. And being an adventurer had led him through some rather crazy adventures that would break the minds of lesser men, especially those that had him cross paths with the Daedric Princes.

But werewolves? That was something not totally crazy but still interesting and right up his alley, made him remember the werewolf that had… 'saved' him during his youth, or rather the creature that had nearly killed him but had saved him from offing himself. His worn fingers gently brushed along the length of the scar running down his face, again remembering his furry savior.

"Maybe I'll get these old bones to stay a bit longer" He said, leaning back in his chair.

Honestly, he had not expected to stay long. The Companions seemed like a stable source of work to fall back on if his renewed adventuring days turned up nothing. However… he got to met a few of them and he already had his eyes on one that he liked. Now? He was going to stay a bit longer, if only to see how this little flame of his went.

He looked back at the moon and wondered if he would be singing songs to it soon as a beast or cursing the very sight of its silvery beams, since it seemed that the Companions took certain members and shared this blessing/curse with them after they had proven their honor. Then again he would probably have to stay for a few years before they even considered sharing this cursed/blessed werewolf blood, or at least prove that he was not a useless old man.

But first thing was first, he reached out and took a bottle of mead from the table left out by someone and uncorked it.

He was going to have a drink and actually enjoy it before he got to work.

He had a list of favors he owed people or people just expected to do out of his own kind heart and on his own damned time. And while Companions were fun and all, certainly more fun than doing favors for completely random people for next to nothing, the list was getting ridiculous and he needed to do something about it.

He decided to start first thing in the morning.

For now, he would enjoy his mead and the company of the moon.

* * *

The next morning, despite throbbing headaches, mysterious bruises and complete black outs from the previous night, all members of the Companions were up and ready for work the next morning.

"Gods, my head" Njada groaned, hangover draught in her hand.

There were several grunts of acknowledgement as all the Companions tried to get themselves pepped up for the long day of work. And when that did not work, more hangover draughts were brought out and passed around.

While waiting for Kodlak to show up with work to be passed out, Vilkas managed to work through enough of his headache to note that Gunnar was not there. He vaguely wondered where the old warrior was, after all it seemed like he did not have much to do with coming out of retirement. However he was not allowed to mediate on where the older man was long before the old harbinger came bearing their duties.

Vilkas would be sent to Markarth to help deal with one of the many dragon menaces that had popped up. Fighting a dragon would certainly be an interesting endeavor to take on… but… oh Oblivion. The curiosity of where Gunnar had run off too was eating away at the knight. Gunnar had stayed for a solid month, and now of all times the old man decides to run away. There was just no reason for him-

A fragment of his memory from last night snapped into place. Gunnar had found out that the Circle was cursed with beast blood. Was he… was he scared off by the thought of being cursed with the same fate. Dammit, he had to know now!

"Kodlak, where's Gunnar?" Vilkas asked.

"Said that he had some other business to do and would back in a few days" Kodlak said, holding a note with the job information out to Alea as she struggled to chug the rest of her draught.

"Oh…" Vilkas sighed before trudging downstairs to pack.

So, there was no guarantee that the old man had not been scared off, especially with the explanation being 'Business elsewhere'. And here the old man had finally become a member of the Companions, probably could start convincing people that he was worth traveling with on jobs. It would have been nice traveling with Gunnar, getting to know the man-

Shaking his head, Vilkas sighed as he realized that he was starting o think about wanting to actually be around the old warrior, especially after his behavior as of late. There was no way that Gunnar would even want to talk to him, no more than ever if Kodlak told Gunnar exactly who was cursed with beast blood.

Well… it was nice while it lasted.

Resigning himself to never knowing more about the old man, the knight allowed himself to vaguely wonder what business could draw the older man away before finishing up with his packing and leaving for Markarth.

* * *

Gunnar yawned as Irileth tried to pep her soldiers up for fighting a dragon. She really was doing a good job, skills likely hone from listening to her Jarl go on and on about the war effort, but no matter what the spunky dark elf said he just could not find the enthusiasm to fight a dragon. Then again, he was not sure how these faceless troops could. He wanted to say, 'maybe it's a Nord thing' and then realized that, save for Irileth, they were all Nords. Perhaps he was just weird then?

Or maybe, he was just frustrated with the fact that delivering news to the Jarl of one town's demise had resulted in this. Seriously, how did telling a leader that a town had perished result in taking out a dragon?

He tried to focus and pay attention, but he soon found himself drifting. The older man looked around, desperately trying to find something to remedy his boredom, and his good eye found Vilkas walking by. The pup seemed to be on his way out the main gates, likely on his way out to a job.

"Hey pup!" He smiled and then chuckled when he realized just how fitting that nickname was now that he knew Vilkas was a werewolf.

Vilkas snapped his head Gunnar's way, eyes wide in shock, like he was surprised to see Gunnar there.

"What? Khajiit got your tongue?" Gunnar teased, leaving Irileth to pep the guards to approach the stunned knight.

"You… I thought… why are you here?" Vilkas gaped.

"An errand for the Jarl, or rather, a really lopsided exchange. I told him one of his towns had burned to the ground and in return I've been asked to kill a dragon" Gunnar said with a tired smile "Don't worry, I'll make sure I live so I can come back"

"You… you're not worried about… but the… the curse" It seemed that the knight was at a complete loss for words. But thankfully, Gunnar knew what he was getting at.

"Oh? You mean that little secret? Never fear pup, I'm not letting that scare me away from you just yet. You're going to have to try a lot harder with my background" Gunnar grinned, before ruffling Vilkas' hair and giving him a gentle and playfully push towards the main gates "And judging by the way you were heading that way, isn't about time you got back on that job you were given?"

Vilkas' expression went from relived to surprise again to indignation, his cheeks were still tinted as he stormed out the front gate.

Grinning, Gunnar unsheathed his sword as Irileth started leading the troops out afterwards.

* * *

When Vilkas returned to Whiterun roughly two weeks later, toting the skull of that troublesome dragon as a trophy, he was expecting a less-stressful-then-taking-on-a-dragon evening. Maybe he'd cram in another much lighter job before resting tomorrow. Maybe he'd even talk with Gunnar, start to build up some courage with him.

Gunnar had haunted his mind all the way to Markarth, while he was fighting the damned dragon, while carving the skull from that damned dragon, and then the journey home. It was like a nagging addiction and there was no remedy to it other than the man himself. Gunnar may have soothed his worries about never coming back to the Companions, but he was sure that any attempts to even start up an amicable relationship with the man were sullied with his attitude towards Gunnar in previous weeks. Maybe… he could start trying, at least?

Sighing, Vilkas entered Jorvashkr… and was greeted by the sight of Gunnar, stripped to the waist with his torso wrapped in blood stained linen strips. Athis was wrapping another layer atop the others, looking worn. The old man looked like he had just gone through the bowels of Oblivion, his good eye bloodshot and marked with purple sleepless shadows. He sipped mead and winced whenever Athis tugged on the bandages.

"What happened?!" Vilkas gaped . The thought that a man as good as Gunnar, getting hurt at all… it was like his mind was rejecting the very thought. It was almost like… like Vilkas thought Gunnar was invincible. Like children thought that their parents were invincible.

"I-I mean… what the hell managed to hurt you" Vilkas corrected quickly.

"Dragon" Gunnar sighed as Vilkas approached to examine the damage through the bandages. The old man sucked down the last of his mead "And an ancient legend that has apparently become true"

"Huh?" Vilkas asked, not understanding. What did a dragon, okay maybe it was the dragon, but what did a legend have to do with these injuries?

"Seems our friend here is something straight from Nord legends" Athis added.

"Straight from… what?" But Gunnar was here, he was certainly not imaginary, and certainly not from a legend.

"Apparently I'm the all mighty Dragonborn, Dovahkiin, master of the Voice" Gunnar muttered "User of the Thu'um"

The… Dragonborn. Vilkas had heard that story, but… was Gunnar really?

As if remembering something painful, Gunnar nearly doubled over in pain, cursing in some strange, throaty language that made the room tremble slightly. Some of the blooming red flowers across the bandages began spreading outwards more quickly, and Athis was quick to get the old man to drink down a potent health potion.

"Right, and master of using some power you're not used too and sending your dumbass into rubble" Athis grumbled, gently stroking the older man's back despite his harsh words.

"Alright" Vilkas snapped "Someone start from the top and tell me what in the hell is going on"

"Alright pup" Gunnar sighed with a slight, mischievous smirk. He patted the seat next to him and after a moment's hesitation Vilkas obliged the older man.

"It all started with my mother and father" Gunnar started with a shameless grin

Athis and Vilkas promptly struck him upside the head, which only made the old Nord laugh hard enough to bring tears to his eye.

"Alright, alright!" He laughed "It all started with that watch tower, the one that the Jarl sent me to face his dragon problem"

* * *

When the tale was said and done, Athis made the old man take a health potion and took away his mead

"It'll thin the blood and make you bleed more" The dark elf explained to the pouting Nord "And I don't want to have to haul you unconscious ass to bed, again!"

Gunnar pouted some more but then choked down his health potion.

"So… you got your wounds not from fighting in close combat with a dragon, and not because you gained the ability to 'Shout' with enough force to knock grown men off their feet. But because you went to a mountain, learned more from the Greybeards… and then turned right around and goofed with this incredible power and accidently knocked yourself off a cliff and onto some jagged rocks?" Vilkas sighed, chugging a bottle of mead much to Gunnar's jealous cringe.

"Yeah" Gunnar grinned.

"Dumbass" Vilkas muttered.

"Thanks, love you too pup" Gunnar grinned, laughing when Vilkas spat out his mead.

"Well, you should really go back and get more lessons, cause right now you suck at this whole, Shouting business" Athis remarked.

"But they refuse to teach me anymore until I go and get some horn from some cave to prove myself" Gunnar sighed "Which means I have to go out and basically do another favor for someone else… even though it was a favor that got me into this mess"

"Are you?" Vilkas asked, trying not to sound like he really didn't want the old warrior to go.

"Aye, but there's no way anyone's going to let me out of here with these wounds and without someone watching my back" Gunnar smiled, giving Athis a look "So I was waiting for the Circle to come back to see if I could drag anyone with me when I get better"

"Take Vilkas, judging by that dragon skull he's better then you at this whole dragon hunting business" Athis smirked " Oh fabled dragon slayer"

"You little" Gunnar growled playfully, but then the elf's words seemed to have sunk in because he turned to Vilkas with a big grin.

"Actually, that's perfect! What do you say pup?" Gunnar asked, beaming.

Have you ever been faced with a perfectly aged and stunning handsome man, giving you a perfect smile and asking something of you that you actually want? No? Good, because Vilkas' will crumbled completely at the sight.

"S-sure" He sighed.

What the hell was he getting himself into?

* * *

So... I fell asleep on my computer and that's why you guys did not get a new chapter last night. When I woke up this morning, my cheek had typed out the letter G until my computer was forced into sleep mode to save energy. Anyway, besides that I fleshed out a lot of stuff, added a scene with Gunnar and Vilkas, not much else.


	7. Chapter 7

Gunnar had broken several of his ribs, gave himself some rather nasty cuts and bruised a few of his organs in his accident, which meant that he was confined to his bed most of the time. If he needed to move at all, someone had to help support his weight so he did not worsen his injuries.

It was the collective agreement of the Circle that Gunnar would not be let out adventuring until his injuries had healed. This meant they had to deal with a pouting old warrior until then and as much as everyone wanted to deny it and say that it was annoying, having to take care of the older man was a fantasy-come-true for those stricken by his charms.

Someone had to be at his side all the time to help him sit up, get him to drink health potions, made sure he ate, help him to the chamber pot and then help him bandage his wounds. And while the girls were jumping up and down for the chance, Kodlak said that to prevent any sort of 'mishaps', only the male Companions would help Gunnar recover.

This meant for Vilkas, life was a living nightmare.

Sure Tovar, Athis, Skjor and Farkas were there to help divide the duties, but at one point he would be there helping the old warrior try to do every day things. Vilkas actually could not wait for them to go traveling so he would not have to be asked to help the man get dressed. So the knight planned to wait it out and go last in the line, hoping that his suffering would be reduced to a minimum.

His plan was of course shot out the window on his first day of helping the old warrior.

The knight walked down the stairs and into the whelp room, and found Gunnar on his bed, staring dejectedly up at the ceiling. The old warrior looked rather… depressed. The lines in his face seemed a bit deeper, and the sleepless bags under his good eye a darker shade of miserable purple. And the way he was lying there, just limp, and made his powerful frame seem… weak.

But then Gunnar looked to the side and noticed Vilkas standing there and a big, mischievous grin made its way across that perfect aged face.

"Morning pup, ready for a day of Oblivion worthy torment?" He asked quite amicably.

Or maybe he wanted to curse the man to the depths of Oblivion.

Vilkas sighed.

"Don't worry, I'm not much trouble" Gunnar smiled "And I'm pretty sure I only need a week more of recovery before we can get on the road together"

"Right, what's first?" Vilkas asked.

"Need to change the bandages, so come help me up" Gunnar grunted, wincing as he shifted slightly.

Vilkas went to the older man's side and gently wormed one of his arms behind Gunnar's broad shoulders. Then gently, he helped the old man sit up, though despite their gentle efforts the old man still groaned in pain as he sat up fully and pushed the blankets out of the way.

"Shit, that hurts" He groaned, but still pointed out where the extra linen strips were being held.

They were easy enough to change, the bloodied strips easier to get rid of, but Vilkas was horribly distracted the entire time. Why? Because someone had thought it would be a good idea to leave the older Nord in nothing but his breechcloth, so the knight had to deal with looking at the cursed fabric and wondering what lay beneath them, though the thin fabric left very little to imagination.

Once that was done, Vilkas had a growing erection and a very long day of helping the old man.

"Thanks pup" Gunnar smiled as the new bandages were finished off.

Vilkas merely grunted, trying to keep more blood from rushing to his cheeks or running south.

"Don't suppose that I could pester you to grab that water skin?" Gunnar asked innocently, pointing at one that had been left next to Athis' bed.

Vilkas complied, trying his hardest not to walk like he was burning with desire. The knight gave the old warrior the skin and was about to excuse himself to settle his problem. But then Gunnar took the skin, popped the cork and wrapped his lips around the opening.

Vilkas lost all ability to think.

He became lost in the way that Gunnar's throat moved each time he swallowed, the way his lips remained sealed around the opening, and the small wet noises he made as he swallowed. It almost made the knight wonder what else the old man could do with his mouth…

"I-I've… I'll be right back" Vilkas managed before fleeing the room.

Gunnar looked honestly confused, looking from the skin to the door Vilkas had fled and then back to the skin. He looked to the water skin to the door that the knight had left through and then back to the water skin. Strange, was the pup alright?

Vilkas came back a bit later, his face hardened and looking rather pissed off. And for a moment, Gunnar thought he had yet again done something to piss the knight off. Perhaps… Vilkas really did hate his guts? But, the knight had seemed genuinely worried when he thought that his old bones were never coming back to the Companions. He even seemed relived for a moment, of course before being teased.

"Ah, come on pup, I'm only teasing you" Gunnar grinned "No need to get all pissy about it, I do it to everyone"

Vilkas only grunted before taking the seat next to the bed and glowering at the ground like it had insulted him.

Perhaps a different tactic?

"Alright, fine, pout like the pup you are" Gunnar gruffed "I'll just sit here and talk to myself...maybe tell myself a story!"

Vilkas shot him a look

"It was almost… thirty years ago. I was a wee thing, all skin and bones and exceptionally miserable because of it" Gunnar started, smiling as Vilkas fidgeted ever so slightly his way "Kids bullied me about my wee size, my tiny little voice and generally how everything about me seemed small and insignificant"

Gunnar looked over to see that Vilkas had lifted his head, and chuckled when the knight hastened to correct himself.

"And, I got pretty sick of it. So I figured, if I could prove my courage, surely they would stop bullying me! So I took the family's hatchet and wondered out into the wounds, thinking that I could kill a fox or a skeever. However, I had to go at night so my parents wouldn't stop me, and on that fateful night it happened to be a full moon" Gunnar said. The old warrior smirked when he saw a pair of brightly colored eyes opening in interest, but still pointed at the ground.

"As I was walk around, I started hearing something chasing me, and soon I started running. And I was running and running and finally the thing caught me, and you know what it was?" Gunnar grinned "Why it was a young werewolf, probably not even a teenager, and the little rascal had been hunting me"

Vilkas was now looking up and watching with adamant attention.

"Well, I sure as Oblivion wasn't going to let some kid kill me. So I fought my little heart out, hacking and slashing while the wolf pup did the same, and as the sun rose for the morning, I had come out on top" Gunnar brushed his fingers across the large scar on his face "But not without a price"

"I thought that you said that you lost your eye as a solider" Vilkas pointed out.

"So, you were listening that day" Gunnar chuckled, before laughing as Vilkas turned red and started sputtering excuses "But, you're right. The pup only cut my face up a bit, it was an enemy soldier's axe that finished the job. However, the scar was still impressive, and proof that I had faced the beast so you can imagine what it did for my reputation"

"The kid who took on a werewolf and lived to tell about it" Vilkas muttered.

"Right, and it seemed with my new found confidence I actually started growing and filling out until, about the time I was hauled out to war, I was taller and broader then some of the adults and definitely bigger then all those brats that had bullied me" Gunnar smiled before grinning mischievously "And I see that my riveting tale has made you stop pouting. By the Nine, you are just like a pup, all it takes is something distracting and"

At this point, the old warrior was laughing too hard to continue and Vilkas looked ready to wither die of humiliation or ready to tear the tricky old man apart.

* * *

Sighing deeply, Vilkas sat back and glanced wearily at the old man now out cold in bed.

The old man had done nothing but tease him until Vilkas finally got the nerve to toss in a little something extra with Gunnar's health potions. Now the old man was deeply asleep, and as much as the knight wanted to just admire the man's handsome visage when it was not teasing him into a tizzy, he really needed the time to clean up a bit and set his thoughts straight.

He really did start acting like a child around the old bastard. He had been distracted with a tale and then had become more the indignant because of it. Vilkas had snapped too loudly, had been corrected about 'indoor voices' and had then become more indignant. The knight would have just punched the old man, had not one well placed punch have ended the bastard's life or made living unbearable. So he had to settle with 'pouting' as Gunnar laughed, and laughed, and then laughed so more at him.

And then extra ingredient had come into play. Sure, it was dirty, but the old man did need some sleep, and he was worsening his injuries by laughing so hard.

Sighing, he picked up bits of blood stained linen strips, empty potion bottles and the dishes from their lunch. He had just come back from giving Tilma the dishes to notice that the old man was not sleeping so peacefully anymore.

Gunnar had broken out in a sweat that glistened on his sun kissed skin, good eye screwed shut in what looked like pain and his lips slightly parted as he groaned deeply. His large body twitched and fidgeted as much as his pained wounds would let him.

"Are you awake, Gunnar?" Vilkas asked, wondering if the old man had bothered his wounds, or was perhaps reacting negatively to that little extra ingredient.

The old Nord only groaned again.

He was still deeply asleep, so what was wrong with him?

Vilkas knelt by the old warrior's side and gingerly pressed the back of his hand against that sweaty forehead. It felt clammy but not feverish so that meant it was not his wounds bothering him, it also meant no infection had suddenly reared its ugly head. So what had the old man so worked up? Nightmares?

"No" Gunnar moaned.

"No?" Vilkas asked softly. A man as experienced as Gunnar probably had something or two that haunted him till this day, so it probably was nightmares "What's wrong Gunnar?"

"D-don't… captain… I can't" Gunnar groaned, brow furrowed deep.

"What can't you do solider?" Vilkas asked. Maybe if he just rolled with it, he could find out what haunted him, help him through it?

"I c-can't kill… those" He took a shuddering breath in "I can't kill those kids"

What?

"Please… please don't make me" Gunnar begged.

Who could have ordered Gunnar to kill children? What sick bastard would ever do that? But first of all, what was Gunnar doing that required that sort of action? Sure, Gunnar had said that he was a solider at one point, probably meant war. But… no one would surely come to ordering their own men to kill children… right?

"Won't… kill you first…" Gunnar growled.

Frightened, or perhaps just worried, Vilkas hesitantly reached out and stroked the old man's stubble covered cheek. The simple action seemed to sooth the old warrior, his pained expression softening slightly, his breathing also evened out a bit.

"Sorry captain…" He sighed before he softly whispered "…I told you I wouldn't"

Gunnar went completely silent and Vilkas just sat there watching him for the longest time.

Sometime later Skjor offered to change places and Vilkas gratefully went to go get a drink before turning in for the night.

When Gunnar awoke he found Skjor sitting by his bedside. The old warrior was completely unaware of the nightmare he had had, but felt a few old wounds aching slightly and decided to go easy on his fellow veteran.

* * *

A week later Gunnar was his old self again, joking and teasing everyone. His wounds had patched up perfectly and he was rearing to get out of bed after being confined to it for so long. And he made sure to demonstrate his wellness by scooping up Ria and Alea in his arms and twirling them around in his arms like they were children. And while completely unnecessary, it proved that he was fine, if not better than ever.

The old man seemed eager like a child as he tried to usher Vilkas to move faster, grinning widely and seemingly bursting with life that belayed his finely aged visage.

"Come on pup!" Gunnar called from upstairs as Vilkas packed for their journey "We're burning day light!"

Vilkas grumbled and complied, stuffing the last of everything that he needed for a long bout of adventuring. The knight had not been out and generally adventuring for some time, but he still remembered what one generally needed. He needed things to clean armor and weapons, some dry rations, extra septuims for emergencies and a few potions and bandages for wounds.

Focusing on packing, Vilkas let himself almost forget that the chipper old man just upstairs had been so vulnerable and weak but a few days ago, lost in the bitter turmoil of whatever haunted his past.

Almost

Stuffing the last that he needed, Vilkas slung his bag onto his back and walked upstairs to see a still smiling and grinning old warrior chatting amicably with Farkas. Upon seeing him, Gunnar bid Farkas a farewell and approached.

"Ready pup?" Gunnar grinned.

"Yeah" Vilkas said.

"What? Change your mind about traveling around with little old me?" Gunnar teased.

"No, let' go old man" Vilkas shoot back.

That got him another heartwarming smile before Gunnar set out with Vilkas following after him, trying to keep up with Gunnar's longer legs and eager stride. Vilkas gave a few parting words to the others as they left, feeling a small tinge of pride as he noted a few jealous eyes glaring daggers at him. He also said a few parting words to Kodlak, making sure that Kodlak had everything that he needed to deal without the knight being there and that all jobs that came specifically for the knight were handled.

Together they left Jorvashkr, walked right out of Whiterun and then into the wilderness.

* * *

"Why would the Greybeards send you all the way out here?" Vilkas asked the old man as they stood before Ustengrav as the snow storm they had marched through started picking up speed and strength.

The hollow and bitterly cold winds and the deep groaning coming from within the ruins gave it a deeply eerie feeling. It would put any sain man on edge from simply looking at it. Perhaps it was a good thing that Gunnar was obviously not totally sane, and Vilkas less so for following him.

"Cause this is where the horn lies" Gunnar grinned, beckoning to the eerie burial grounds as though it were nothing "Or at least according to those old hermits it is"

"Are you sure about this?" Vilkas sighed deeply, resigning himself to whatever fate was going to throw at the two.

"Nope" Gunnar smiled brightly.

"Then let's get on with it" Vilkas sighed, unsheathing his weapon and his shield.

* * *

Not much done. Fleshing out, a new scene added. Worked on it while traveling back to my home state. Love ya pups


	8. Chapter 8

First thing they had to face on the inside was a set of stairs, which was not really all that bad. But said stairs were littered with brittle old bones and the bloodied bodies of two bandits and well... that did not bode well for whatever was deeper inside. Actually, it pretty much told them that there was trouble, just waiting for them further.

"Wonder what killed them?" Vilkas asked aloud as Gunnar went through their pockets.

"Hmm… probably each other judging by these cuts" Gunnar said as he pocketed the last septuim "Crude… clumsy even… rushed perhaps?"

He stood up and listened a moment, large body tensed like a big saber cat.

"Mages about, be careful pup"

"I can handle myself" Vilkas defended.

"I know you can pup, but mages are tricky to deal with even with my skills, I don't want to see you get hit with a ball of fire or struck with lightning" Gunnar smiled.

They pressed forward down the stairs, taking each step carefully and slowly as not to garner the mages' attention, and entered a chamber. At the far end of the chamber were two mages fighting against two bandits. Curses, blood, and magical spells flew everywhere.

Gunnar cursed softly and pulled Vilkas behind a pillar.

"What do we do?" Vilkas whispered.

"Hmm" Gunnar scratched his chin in thought for a moment before unsheathing his large great sword. Very cautiously he peeked from behind the pillar.

Seeing no harm in it, Vilkas did the same from a crouched position, wondering what the old man was thinking. Even a man of Gunnar's caliber would have to be suicidal to take a mage head on, let alone two, so simply rushing in there was simply out of the question. So what was he doing? Maybe, he was going to try and use his Dragonborn power?

The mages defeated the bandits, which was not really surprising considering the tricks that mages held. After fixing their robes like nothing had happened, they ventured away from the scene of the battle and started towards a room off to the side. Likely to join their friends or look for any more wayward bandits to kill.

Gunnar tensed slightly and lifted his sword, heaving the massive steel beast back up and leaning it against his shoulder in what appeared to be an overhead swing, teeth clenched together in concentration. Vilkas vaguely wondered if he should have gotten out of the way, but by the way that Gunnar was not nudging him out of the way or outright saying anything, he did not appear to… be in the immediate way of whatever Plan that the old man was hatching.

One of the two mages caught up to the second and they began speaking in quiet tones. Standing together they were about to head into the hallway leading out, when they paused and then one moved in front of the other so that they could enter the narrow passage.

That was when Gunnar took two hurried steps forward and swung his greatsword with all his might.

The sword went cart-wheeling through the air with lethal speed. It made such great speed at such little noise that the mages could hardly react before the massive sword went slicing through the backmost mage and stuck halfway through the torso of the foremost mage. The two dead mages collapsed on the ground in a bloody pile, Gunnar's massive sword sticking out of them and sticky with blood.

"Yay! Nailed that one!"

"…And did you know that would work?" Vilkas asked.

"Absolutely not, but it was pretty damn cool that it did, didn't it?" Gunnar smirked over his shoulder, walking forward to retrieve his sword.

"For an old man, you sure have the heart of a youngling" Vilkas sighed.

"What was that pup?" Gunnar smirked, ripping his sword from the mage corpses with a bloody splash.

"You heard me!"

After the first chamber had been looted of everything of value, they moved on into the hallway and then were faced with another set of stairs. This was one had a mangled mage corpse near the top and then another along with a Drauger corpse at the bottom, likely the end results of some brief lived struggle... had the sound of mages' voices mingled with the gurgled grunts of the Drauger as the sounds of the two fighting came from just beyond. Whatever battle had claimed the two was still going on.

"Sounds like fun" Gunnar grinned, pulling the last blooded coin from the dead mage "Ready to go?"

"We're going to fighting them head on?" Vilkas asked skeptically.

Drauger would have been easy, but there were also mages down there too. Undead was one thing, but fire and lightning was another.

"No, I'm gonna try something reckless" Gunnar grinned.

The old warrior rushed down the stairs, Vilkas trying to keep up, and then hooked the sharp turn that lead into the room where the mages and the Drauger were fighting. The old warrior came to such an abrupt stop at the door that Vilkas crashed into Gunnar's back and was sent arse first to the ground.

"Fus, ROH!"

It seemed that the very foundation of the structure shook with the power of Gunnar's voice. And as the echo of his voice slowly drifted through the building, a sort of deafening silence came over the air, almost as though the very atmosphere was struck speechless with the bizarre and strange power.

"HA!" Gunnar's booming voice shattered the strange and heavy silence "I didn't get tossed back this time!"

Vilkas peered around the old man to see that the bodies of the mages and of the Drauger were strewn about the floor of the next room, all dead and limbs jutting out in stiff angles.

"What, gonna sit there all day pup? Come on!" Gunnar grinned, holding out a hand for Vilkas.

Vilkas just shook his head and then took the offered hand.

This certainly was the start of an interesting adventure.

They explored a bit through a series of connecting chambers after Gunnar had looted all the bodies. They found some treasures left in old urns and then a few things the mages had left about such as potions that were safely tucked away.

They stumbled upon a room filled with old urns and ancient embalming tools. After picking the place clean of treasure Gunnar looked around a bit and happened across a slightly raised, rough door shape in the wall.

"Looks like we might use this later on" Gunnar said.

How he knew was a mystery so Vilkas simply shrugged it off.

They looked around a bit until they found a way leading further into the ruins. Despite his past history of brashness, Gunnar advised cation.

"Bandits, mages and Drauger, something ain't right" He muttered as they silently made their way further in.

They came across a chamber and the moment they stepped through the door's threshold a coffin along the way popped open and a Drauger stumbled out. It's hollow eyes rolled around until it met them and then the creature spat out a series of garbled words before pulling out a sword and charging them.

The knight and the old warrior unsheathed their own respective weapons and charged the creature. However, as soon as they came close another Drauger, seemingly stumbling into existence, that lifted his hand and started spraying a fount of ice like a mage.

"He's mine!" Gunnar yelled, smiling manically as he went after the magic using Drauger.

Vilkas did not have time to question the old man's sanity, because the first Drauger was now swinging haphazardly at him. He had his shield yes, but the bag of bones was not giving him much of an opportunity to swing back, forcing him to stick with defending himself.

"Shit" He cursed.

There was no way he was going to give Gunnar another reason to tease him. He was not going to lose to a man that had already lost to death!

Vilkas slammed his shield against the dead man... at about the same time that the dead man was swinging. When steel met the knight's shield, the dead man was thrown back onto his rotted ass. This gave the knight the perfect opportunity to bring his sword down on the Drauger's chest. With a satisfying crunch, the knight's sword sank into the bag o bones' chest and killed the strange undead life that the creature had. But it was not enough the knight needed to be sure that it was dead. So pulling the blade free of the Drauger's chest, he sank it into the Drauger's neck and swung with all his strength.

The decapitated skull was sent flying through the air before landing next to Gunnar' feet with a hollowed thud. The old man only grinned at the knight, brushing the thinnest bit of frost from his shoulders. The magic using Drauger lay in a diced heap a bit away.

"What took you so long pup?" Gunnar grinned "I mean, I'm an old timer and I was faced with a Spell-sword, you're a young thing and faced with something with only a sword".

"…Let's go" Vilkas fumed, storming past the old man, who only chuckled.

Looking around they found a set of stairs that lead to a room that had a bridge that went across the room that they had just fought in. From there the bridge went into a room that held some stairs that lead to a large set of iron doors. There were only a few things of interest, so they moved mercifully quickly.

"Someone left me a present" Gunnar said, picking up a dusty bag of gold that someone had left by the doors.

"These lead further in?" Vilkas asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yep, so I guess now would be the time to see if you're willing to go or if you want to go back" Gunnar grinned teasingly.

"You won't scare me off that easily" Vilkas glared.

"Good call, let's go pup" Gunnar smiled.

They pushed open the doors and advanced.

~Some miscellaneous adventures and several riddles later~

"This place is a death trap" Vilkas said, looking over his shoulder to make sure no spider was following them "This horn had better be worth it"

Gunnar pulled the switch and the iron-gate blocking their path screeched upward. As soon as the ancient mechanism had managed that they advanced forward, not wanting to find out if anything had followed them.

The stone structures rising from the water startled them, but by that point they were probably too tired to fight anything else had it been a threat. Fighting Drauger, Frostbite spiders and fighting with traps had the tendency to do that even to amazing warriors like Vilkas and Gunnar. The only thing that kept them going was Gunnar's sheer stubborn will to get the horn back to the hermits.

Vilkas was looking forward to some well deserved rest after this. Even if he had to drag the old man all the way back to Whiterun to do it.

"Must… finish it" Gunnar groaned, sluggishly stepping forward towards pedestal, Vilkas following casually behind.

"Almost… the fuck? What in the name of Oblivion is this nonsense?!"

"What?"

The old warrior raced forward to the stand that looked like it would normally house the horn, only for a note to be where the horn would have gone. The muscles around Gunnar's bad eyes twitched in a rather annoyed but comical manner as he jerkingly plucked the note from where it sat.

"Someone has a lot of explaining to do" Gunnar growled, opening the note.

He read it for a second before hastily folding back up and stuffing it back in his bag.

"What'd it say?" Vilkas asked.

"That whoever has absconded with the horn now lays in Riverwood" Gunnar growled before running back the way they had come.

"Uh, Gunnar?" Vilkas called, pointing at the door behind the pedestal.

"Huh? Oh! I knew I brought you along for something other than looking pretty!" Gunnar grinned as he dashed back and leaving Vilkas to sigh "Now, let's go get this thieving son of a bitch!"

Hey pups, not much done, edits and tweaking. The next chapter will be a very heavily edited from it's Old Scales counterpart, please look forward to it because I am certainly not. Anyways, thanks for the reviews/views/reviews and further more, I really appreciate it. Love ya pups~


	9. Chapter 9

Shortly after they left Ustengrav, Gunnar's strange fury had melted and he had cheered right up and resumed his usual playful personality. Strangely, the knight preferred this teasing attitude over Gunnar's sulking one, because the bitterly angry silence was an alien thing around the usually playful old warrior. And well… it had been exceptionally uncomfortable… and something did not feel right in his chest.

They had been going at it back and forth, the teasing and snappy comebacks when Gunnar said-

"Hey pup, watch your step"

Vilkas stumbled over an odd stone and one wrong step sent him falling forward. But the old warrior, quick as the silver fox that he was, reached out and grabbed Vilkas' arm and pulled him back onto his feet.

"Silly pup, I told you so" Gunnar chuckled.

"Thanks" Vilkas grunted, righting himself and trying not to enjoy the strength or warmth of Gunnar's large hand gripping his arm. He almost protested when the hand left him.

He realized that his cheeks felt a bit warmer than they should have. Gods, this man and his teasing, it just had to get him all riled up like a love struck child.

"S-so" Vilkas quickly managed, trying to distract his mind "What was being a full adventurer like?"

"A 'full adventurer'? Now why would you want to hear about that, pup? And why so suddenly?" Gunnar grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Are you going to tell me or not, old man?!" Vilkas snapped.

"Just teasing you, pup" Gunnar laughed loudly "But seriously being an adventurer was almost like you would hear from any other traveler. There are adventures to be had, gold if you're good, plenty of interesting men and women to meet, stories as far as the eye can see, battles worthy of the books. "

They paused along the road to let a merchant and wagon by. The merchant nodded and they returned the gesture before walking along as the merchant passed. Actually it was a rather nice weather to be traveling, or walking with a person like Gunnar.

"Let's see, most days I… would hunt around for treasure, fight off bandits and pick their bodies clean of anything of value, finds things in ruins, sell everything I had to the nearest shop and then burn most of the gold drinking" Gunnar said "Most days anyway. There were days, nay, even weeks that I would spend just traveling from one place to the next in search for the next adventure. Never settling down and never getting attached to anything for long"

"How could you stand it?" Vilkas asked "Seems like such a life style could get… lonely at times. You must have wanted to seek some sort of… more permanent companionship at one point"

"There were times that I want it, yes. However I found myself drifting whenever I tried getting attached, never being able to even become attached to a town or village for too long before I found myself wanting to drift again" Gunnar said "There was that time after that village… but I guess when that failed… I guess I lost all faith in anything being able to be there to settle down with"

"So, got any good stories from before?" Vilkas asked lightheartedly.

"Stories? What kind of stories, pup?" Gunnar grinned "Because I got some that are very inappropriate for lads your age"

This of drew a reaction from Vilkas

"Please, I'm a grown man with my own wild adventures" Vilkas huffed, "I can take it"

Grinning widely, Gunnar then went on a long spiel of his adventures with a group of Argonians females in heat, how they looked, how they looked naked, how their scales felt, how each and every one of them were, how long this adventure went on and how it affected the old warrior's views of Argonians from then on.

When the old warrior finished up, Vilkas' face was blood red, which only prompted laughter on Gunnar's end.

"I told you, pup!" Gunnar laughed.

"You're a horny old bastard" Vilkas muttered, scratching at his neck.

"Now tell me one of yours" Gunnar smirked "One of your 'wild adventures'"

Vilkas sputtered, and scrambled for something to say, all of which caused Gunnar to laugh harder and harder until finally Vilkas barked at him

"SHUT UP!" But his voice cracked, something that had not happened since he really was a lad.

And then there was nothing stopping Gunnar from laughing. Only when that the tears finally stopped flowing, he finally got the chance to breath and the piercing death glare that the knight was throwing his way, did Gunnar finally control himself.

"Sorry pup, I just… that was too good to be true. But seriously, you've got to have some story with that beast blood of yours" Gunnar chuckled lightly

"Um…" Vilkas started "I…"

He thought for a moment, and then chose a story

"The first time I woke up after a transformation… it was memorable" Vilkas started.

Gunnar leered, obviously very interested in what the knight had to say, which only made Vilkas' face feel a tad warm. But he pushed on, regardless.

"I had woken up in the middle of the woods. Naked, covered in mud, blood and grass and my stomach full of whatever my wolf had eaten the night before" Vilkas said "I tried to make my way to a village or a town, to find out just far I had traveled or at least get my hands on some clothes"

"Naked, covered in blood, mud and grass. Sounds like the aftermath of a good party… or a crime spree gone terribly wrong" Gunnar grinned.

"Anyway" Vilkas continued angrily "I walked a bit, walking through the woods and brush for cover to avoid detection, until I found a little farming village alongside a river. A came to the town along the edge, thinking I could swipe a few clothes and return them later, perhaps come back with some coin for the trouble"

"And? Where's the 'wild' twist in this adventure?" Gunnar pressed with a grin.

"Patience, old man" Vilkas snapped, not liking the feeling of telling a tale to a critical parent "I tried grabbing at some clothes they had left on a line to dry… but my foot slipped and I fell into the river… and I ended up alerting the young daughter, who happened to be home"

Gunnar smirked perversely.

"She saw me, and all the filth dripping down me as I sat buck ass naked in the river… and she was interested in why there was a dirty naked teenager in the river by her house, very interested. And well… you can guess the rest"

"No" Gunnar grinned mischievously "Spell it out for me, pup"

"…no…" Vilkas deadpanned.

And a sort of stubborn silence took place, which Gunnar seemed contemplative and Vilkas blushed darkly for ever sharing such a tale. It was a tale that only Farkas knew, why in the world did he tell Gunnar? Seriously, he should have knew that Gunnar would tease him about-

"I get it, you two fucked!"

The resounding thump of Vilkas smacking Gunnar upside the head did little to drown out Gunnar's resounding laughter.

"So, why do you think they want you to go all the way to Riverwood?" Vilkas huffed, rubbing his sore hand.

"No clue, but they better have the horn or they're going to deal with a very grumpy old man" Gunnar grinned at his own joke.

"More like a very strange, perverted old man" Vilkas muttered.

"I may be an old man, but at least no one can resist me" Gunnar grinned.

"Ain't that true" Vilkas muttered.

Not even me

* * *

It took two days to Riverwood, and each waking moment of those two days Vilkas got to enjoying Gunnar's near relentless teasing.

Several times it made him blush bright red and Gunnar had laughed himself to tears. And quite a few more times the blood rushed the complete other way and Gunnar laughed at Vilkas's discomfort, seemingly oblivious to the real source of discomfort.

It got so bad that the knight nearly cried at the sight of Riverwood. Actually he did get a little teary eyed at the sight, but it was not like he would admit it.

"Here we are" Gunnar announced, making a wide sweep of his arm towards the town.

"Finally" Vilkas sighed.

"What was that, pup?"

"You heard me, old man!"

They walked to the Giant's Inn and went in to see it empty save the man behind the counter and an older bar maid. No mysterious figure holding an ancient horn of Nordic design, or some out of place messenger to tell them where to meet the person holding said horn. Not even a horn just lying about, carelessly left about by some idiot.

Sighing, Gunnar went over to the bar maid

"Hello, I'd like the attic room" He said.

Vilkas looked up and saw no attic, so why was the old man asking for it? Was that code or something? Maybe it had something to do with that note where the horn should have been… the note perhaps said too?

"Attic room, eh? We don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home" The bar maid said, jerking her thumb towards the indicated room.

"Thanks" Gunnar said, handing her ten septuims before walking over to the room.

Vilkas followed behind, making sure to close the door behind them. The old warrior plopped down on the bed and sighed deeply.

"I think we've been dooped" He said almost dejectedly.

"Really?" Vilkas said sarcastically.

"Really! I mean who here could have gone through those ruins without getting killed by those Drauger? The bar maid looks like a mean old bitch, and the barkeep looks like he could bench press you, but neither of them look like they could be adventurers"

"Maybe we missed the real person?"

"Gods, then someone out there is running around with the horn, wondering who I am and I have no clue who they are!" Gunnar groaned.

The door suddenly opened and the old bar maid walked in. She looked with a judging eye at Vilkas before her eyes settled on Gunnar. Something of a disappointed scowl carved itself into her face.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about" She said before reaching into her pocket and pulling out the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller and holding it out for Gunnar "I think you're looking for this"

"Yeah, thanks" Gunnar said, taking it. He stashed it in his bag before walking for the door "Come on, pup"

"Hey! Wait!" The bar maid said, stepping in his way.

"What?" Gunnar groaned like a child.

"You're not even interested in why I have the horn?" She asked.

"…no" Gunnar stated so bluntly that Vilkas chuckled.

"At least hear me out, I went to a lot of trouble to get that horn"

"And so did I, if you haven't noticed" Gunnar said "A lot of work for nothing, in the end as I found out the hard way"

"Will you just listen to me?" The bar maid nearly begged.

"Fine, let me hear it" Gunnar sighed.

"Not here" She scowled, as though it were obvious.

"No thank you then" Gunnar scowled right back, as though his answer was obvious.

"Gunnar" Vilkas said, fighting back laughter.

"Oh fine, where do you want me?" Gunnar muttered, throwing a pout Vilkas' way.

The bar maid beckoned them to follow, urging them to follow her from the room that she had made Gunnar rent, across the bar and then to a slightly large room that must have been hers, judging by the quality overall and the cleanliness. When they were all in the room, she turned and scowled deeply at Vilkas, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I'm afraid you're friend shouldn't hear this" She said.

"If pup can't stay then I'm leaving" Gunnar threatened.

"…Fine, close the door" She ordered briskly.

"Now you're ordering me around girly? I'm afraid you're a bit early for that" Gunnar smiled confidently.

The bar maid only stared stunned at them before scowling and going over to the door and slamming it shut herself. She then stormed across the room and opened the wardrobe, pulling on the backboard inside to open a secret door. She roughly waved them through and both the Companions followed, grinning at each other.

They went down a set of stairs and into a stocked room. On the table was a marked up map and a black bound book. The bar maid went over to the table and leaned against it before glaring at Gunnar.

"The Greybeards seem to think that you're the Dragonborn. I hope they're right" She said.

"They Greybeards are right. I am Dragonborn" Gunnar said, as though it were obvious.

"I hope so. But you'll forgive me if I don't assume that something's true just because the Greybeards say so" She scowled at him "I just handed you the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. Does that make me Dragonborn, too?"

"No… and that's a terrible argument" Gunnar said "Seriously? What kind of fucking argument is that? That's like a child's argument or something… or someone that doesn't have a point to argue"

She sighed before entirely giving up on her honestly pointless argument.

"What do you want with me?" Gunnar said finally, exerting a sort of fatherly like authority in his voice.

"I didn't go to all this trouble on a whim. I needed to make sure it wasn't a Thalmor trap" She sighed again before pushing forward "I'm not your enemy. I already gave you the horn. I'm actually trying to help you. I just need you to hear me out"

"This is going to take a while" Vilkas sighed, already seeing the defiance in the old warrior's eye.

* * *

Hey pups. Like I said, a lot of edits in this chapter. I tore a lot of stuff out and just rewrote it. Anyway, love ya pups


	10. Chapter 10

"Work with me Gunnar" Delphine nearly begged.

"No, I will not work with a thief" Gunnar said firmly, smirking with his wicked sense of humor.

"I didn't steal anything" Delphine sneered.

"You took the Horn from the tomb when you knew full well that the Greybeards would send me to retrieve it" Gunnar snapped, jabbing an accusing finger at the older Breton "So, you DID steal it"

"Because I needed to know if this whole Dragonborn business wasn't a Thalmor trap" Delphine growled.

"The Thalmor wouldn't use a Nordic legend, and why would they? What possible benefit would they get from making a Dragonborn appear?" Gunnar retorted.

"To cause more chaos! Skyrim is already weakened by the civil war and the dragons, why not make a mythical dragon slayer appear?"

"Because it would give them hope, and with hope they would fight back against the dragon united"

"You stubborn old fool!" Delphine barked.

"Who you calling old?!" Gunnar retorted.

Vilkas could only sigh in utter boredom as the two bickered back and forth like an old married couple. Did all couples argue like that? He wondered idly if anyone that managed to tie Gunnar down would act like that with him. Or maybe this was just how Gunnar was with anyone he did not like. Maybe… what he and Gunnar-

He quickly struck down that impossibility, blushing slightly for even letting the thought enter his mind, before going back to listening to the two argue. It was, after all, an odd sort of entertainment.

"I'm just saying that the Thalmor are a dangerous threat" Delphine pressed.

"Look, lady, the Thalmor may be devious little bastards but they wouldn't take advantage of Skyrim while she was dealing with dragons and rebels. Yeah it'd be easier and all, but there would be no sport or pride in it, they'd want to honor of dealing the blows, not fire breathing lizards" Gunnar said, "They'd enjoy the credit too much to let dragons off their enemies"

"And what makes you say that? Huh? Are you a Thalmor spy?" Delphine practically growled.

"What's with you and Thalmor spies?! My gods woman, they're too busy trying to focus on the easier task of outlawing Talos worship and breaking the Nord's spirits then dirty their hands fighting dragons"

Vilkas sighed and fidgeted in the chair that he had been confined too. At the rate these two were going, he could have walked to Whiterun, caught the other Companions up, had a drink, fought, killed and skinned a dragon and then be back before these two had even moved away from the Thalmor subject. This Delphine would not let it go, no matter how many times Gunnar shot down her pathetic and half assed her arguments were.

Vilkas sighed again and leaned back in the chair, trying to at least get comfortable. He'd need it at this rate. Then again, a drink would top it all off. Maybe the buzz would make the argument even funnier.

"Look, the dragons are rising for a good reason" Delphine snapped.

"Because Alduin has come back!" Gunnar snapped before visibly recoiling. He looked like he rather regretted what he had just said.

What? How did Gunnar know if he had only been in Skyrim for a short while? Did he…. Did he really know why the dragons had started rising? And if so, how?

"What? Who's Alduin?" Delphine demanded.

"For the sweet love of Talos!" Gunnar suddenly snapped, regret replaced by anger "Alduin is the fabled World Eater who will devour the world and can only be stopped by the fabled Dragonborn. A human gifted with the dragon's Voice, which I proven countless times"

"Oh, so you think that just because you can raise your voice you can take on a fable dragon?" Delphine sneered.

"It's called Shouting, and no, I have no idea if I can defeat the World Eater when people like you are taking up all my time!" Gunnar barked "So how about you stop wasting my gods damned time before I Thu'um you across Tamerial"

Vilkas got to his feet and went to Gunnar's side.

This had gone on long enough. These two were at a stalemate and it there was no end in sight with Delphine seemed Oblivion bent on arguing her worthless point and Gunnar seemed equally bent on proving her wrong. The knight needed to get the two separated before Gunnar actually Shouted Delphine across Tamerial, or better yet, ran her through with his large great sword.

The knight reached out and gripped one of the older Nord's shoulders. Gunnar turned on him, fury in his eye, but then it almost instantly settled down.

"Here, let's finish this" Vilkas said calmly. He turned to Delphine and told her bluntly with an underlying threatening growl "Tell us what you want, no traps, ideas, philosophy or jabs at anyone. Just. What. You. Want"

Delphine sneered and then said "I want your help with the dragons"

"Alright, are you willing to help her Gunnar?" Vilkas asked.

Gunnar glared daggers at the aged woman but nodded curtly.

"I will because I AM the Dragonborn and it is foretold that I will apparently defeat the dragons" He jabbed a finger at her "But mention Thalmor, plots, or my age again and I will Thu'um you to Oblivion"

"Then it's settled" Vilkas said "Let's go home, old man"

He gently urged the old warrior back up the secret stairs and back into the inn. Up there people had gathered for the evening and quite a few of them threw appraising glances Gunnar's way. The younger Nord, trying not to feel jealous or possessive over the old man, continued to urge Gunnar through the inn and then out the doors into the cooler evening air.

"You're not going to help her are you?" Vilkas grinned.

"Not if I can help it, pup" Gunnar grinned evilly.

* * *

"So, how do you know about Alduin's return?" Vilkas ventured as they walked.

Gunnar and Delphine's bickering had gone on for longer than the knight thought, because now the sky was black and streaked with the color of the heavenly lights from Sovngarde. Being tired from the long journey and worn out from the bickering, the two were leisurely making their way to Whiterun.

Gunnar sighed and looked up at the sky. For the longest time he didn't answer, but instead just watched the rainbow of lights flickering in waves across the black sky.

"I told you how I was an adventurer?" He finally

"Yes" Vilkas said

"Well… sometime ago in my youth I stumbled into Skyrim and wondered into a cave. In this cave I found a strange wall with ancient letters carved into it. As I approached, a strange sort of knowledge flooded my head. The knowledge bothered me for quite some time. I finally just went searching for every clue I could get my hands on and eventually found the tale of the World Eater and was able to piece a few things together"

Vilkas remained silent, simply letting the old warrior talk.

"I was… unsure as to what to make of everything. I was scared of becoming this all powerful hero of legend… so I just ran away " Gunnar sighed tiredly "I was just hoping that it was a story that I wouldn't have to be part of…but I guess in the end I did"

The old warrior scratched at his face. Vilkas noted that it was covered in a rough stubble and the knight kind of hoped that the old man would keep it for a few days before shaving again. He rather liked the old man looking a bit scruffy, almost like a hard working husband or father or something.

The knight was immensely grateful that it was dark, as to hide his blush of thinking of those things again.

"I guess that's just my luck" Gunnar sighed almost dejectedly "Little old me, the hero of Skyrim. Seriously, why would they pick someone who would be my age by the time everything started?"

"Because no one else your age is capable of being as amazing as you are now?" Vilkas suggested light heartedly.

"Are you saying that you find me amazing, pup?" Gunnar grinned.

"No" Vilkas deadpanned.

"Really? Your blush says otherwise" Gunnar laughed.

Vilkas sighed, which only made the old man laugh harder. But that hearty and light hearted nature laugh was contagious and the knight soon found himself grinning and then laughing himself. And together they laughed into the night. And when it died down a bit, Vilkas looked at the older Nord and smirked.

"How does anyone put up with you?"

"Please, like anyone could resist my sexiness, my skills and my sense of humor" Gunnar grinned back.

"Right" Vilkas agreed and then blushed.

Wait… did he just say that he was one of those people? He hoped that the older man would not notice that little detail or just gloss over it.

Gunnar just grinned triumphantly before slinging a muscular and warm around the younger Nord's neck and pulling the knight in close. The older Nord smelled like sweat, leather and something else that could have only have been just Gunnar. Not to mention his skin was warm and did little to hide the older Nord's muscles.

"When we get home we've got to tell the others about what happened" Gunnar grinned "With some warm stew and a few drinks of course"

Vilkas smiled slightly, his head feeling hazy from Gunnar's scent and his wolf mentally drooling like a waterfall, before slinging an arm (mostly) around the older Nord's shoulders.

"Sounds like a plan, old man"

"I'm glad to have had you with me" Gunnar smiled "Pup"

* * *

They made it to Whiterun with little trouble, jabbing and teasing each other to see which would cave first. Vilkas did of course, but that did not stop him from trying to get the old man to cave. Besides, it was fun just getting to know the old man on a more personal level, instead of accidently digging at the old wounds that haunted Gunnar.

When they came back to Jorvashkr, Gunnar was greeted with cheer and Vilkas was greeted by his brother. But Vilkas did not feel bad, after all, he had the old man to himself for all that time. None of the others could say that.

And as the old man was asked a flurry of question about his adventure, Vilkas and Farkas went through their usual ritual for when one went adventuring and the other did not. The usual, 'any injuries?' 'any interesting creatures?' 'any interesting people?' and so and so forth as Vilkas unpacked his things and got out of his armor.

"So, got the old man to yourself" Farkas said, "How was that?"

"Not bad, I suppose" Vilkas said

"Hmm, you know… he thinks you hate him" Farkas noted in his usual blunt way.

Blinking… Vilkas stared at the undone buckles of his bracers, trying to swallow those words.

"Oh, does he?"

"Yeah, he was worried he had insulted you or something" Farkas said.

Well… and here the knight had thought that his faked hatred of the old man was not working. Turns out… it had worked. But perhaps… perhaps Gunnar's mind had changed after they had spent some time together?

"Glad to see it's just your usual cranky self" Farkas said, lightly smacking Vilkas' shoulder.

"I am not cranky!" Vilkas huffed.

"…right" Farkas deadpanned "And here I thought it was your sunny personality that everyone remembered".

After playing punching his brother playfully, Vilkas shooed his brother out of his room so that he could change into some clean clothes. After all, no one was expecting him to go out any where after just getting back, right? Not like he would, even if he was asked anyway. He wanted at least the rest of the day and then the night to just relax.

Going out in the main hall, he saw that someone had managed to get a drinking party under way. Or at least a party with a lot of mead and ale being drunk, which meant an average day in the lives of the Companions. And who was in the middle of the mess? Why it was none other than that loveable old bastard, Gunnar. Smiling and grinning as he recounted the tale of his and the knight's adventure.

Sighing hopelessly, Vilkas grabbed a bottle and joined in on the fun.

Stories both new and old were recounted, laughter and drinks ran freely. Soon the drunken lot were cracking jokes and doing other drunken things. Vilkas even hugged Gunnar, a full two arm and chest pressing hug, though the knight was also calling him an adorable bastard.

Of course, Kodlak made them all eat and start drinking water after a couple hours of such nonsense. And once it was clear that even after such measures, that they would still be a bunch of drunken idiots, he sent them all to bed with a few reluctant grumbles.

"Good night" Vilkas smiled.

"Night, pup" Gunnar grinned before they went to their respective beds.

In his room, Vilkas changed into some more comfortable clothing, before stowing away the three bottles of mead he had snuck away from the party, before crawling into bed.

With his wolf blood any sort of deep and restful sleep was impossible, though right then he felt so simply content that he probably would have managed it.

He had finally gotten to amicable talking with the old man, gotten a peek of his past that few others probably knew, gotten to fight alongside him in battle, and traveled with him. And tomorrow they were going to go out and travel again. The knight could not help but feel a bit giddy with excitement.

Knock, knock

Who could that have been?

* * *

Hey pups! Carved out the middle of the chapter and rewrote it, then tweaked the ending for length. The next chapter is going to get buried six feet under edits, I might even add some kissing~ Anyway, thanks for reading and remember, I LUV REVIEWS3 Night pups~


	11. Chapter 11

Picking up a few things to munch on, Farkas got ready to join the others in sleeping. Even his beast blood was having a hard time chewing through all the mead that he had drunk, and something to eat and a good hard sleep would help him in the morning. And he almost made it out of the Great Hall… almost.

Alea and Skjor were standing in the way, though Skjor looked like he was fall any minute with how much he wavered just from standing.

"What is it?" Farkas asked in his usual blunt manner.

"We were thinking about doing something, but wanted your opinion on it" Alea asked, trying to discretely reach over and tug Skjor up right before the old Nord tumbled down the stairs.

His opinion… that did not sound good to the big warrior. People only wanted his opinion when they really just wanted the bitter truth. Then again, he seemed to have an eloquent way of being blunt that people found both endearing and irritating.

"What?" He asked with a heavy sigh.

"We want to offer Hircine's blessing to Gunnar" Alea, said, getting to the point "He has more the proven his worth, and when he found out about our blessing, he did not openly reject us, nor did he turn us into the city guards"

"… I don't know what you're asking my opinion about" Farkas said blankly

"Wither you think we should do it, ice-brain" Alea said, playfully smacking Farkas' forehead.

"Oh, that's what you want" Farkas said, rubbing his forehead.

He thought for a moment.

There was that fact that Kodlak and Vilkas thought it was a curse, and that Alea and Skjor thought it was a blessing. And that Gunnar, did in fact, did not openly reject the idea. He seemed, curious about it really. The old warrior had asked Kodlak question after question about it. Perks, drawbacks, if transformations were uncontrollable or voluntary, how many were there, how many were being considered.

But, if Alea tried to push this, then Vilkas and Kodlak would be riled up again and the fighting between the four would begin again. And when angered werewolves fought… there were incidents that were really a bother, guards coming and going with questions, blood and fur on the floors that needed explanations, wounds and bandages that needed better explanations.

It would have been better to just forget it all, but Alea was staring at him with wanting eyes and Skjor looked like he was going to be sick soon. So, how to get a fiery young woman to back down?

"I don't know. But it would be better if you give him a choice, not trick him into taking it" Farkas said before Skjor wobbled out the backdoor, likely to throw up.

Watching Alea chase after him, Farkas decided that at least Vilkas needed to know. His brother had shown a liking for the older Nord, and he would want to know about this.

* * *

Sitting all cozy like, Gunnar juggled getting his armor off and sipping discretely from a bottle of ale. It was harder then he thought, and he ended up just holding the mouth of the bottle between his teeth as he struggled to get out of his boots.

He was actually succeeding when he suddenly sneezed and lost grip on the bottle, which clattered to the ground in a mess of sweetly smelling liquid all over his boots.

"Son of a" Gunnar muttered, picking up the bottle to stare forlornly at the lost ale.

"What's wrong?" Athis asked, peeking his head out from underneath his blanket.

"Dropped some ale on my boots" Gunnar chuckled before tossing the bottle into the pile in the corner "Because I sneezed. Someone's talking about me and I don't appreciate it"

"Because your studdly!" Njada called from underneath her pillow "Studdly, studdly man"

"Studdly?" Gunnar laughed "I don't think that's a word, sweetie"

"Don't correct me on my… grammar…"

"I also don't think it's a grammar mistake" Gunnar laughed, even as Njada's helm came flying at his head.

"Fuck you, yoooooou… you… uuuuh… FUCK THIS SHIT, IT'S TOO HARD"

Practically in tears from laughing, Gunnar reached under his pillow to fetch the book he was in the middle of reading and getting comfortable. He flipped through the pages until he found the marked one and started reading.

But… who was talking about him this late at night?

* * *

Vilkas got to his feet and slipped into some trousers for modesty.

"Come in" He called out.

The door opened and Farkas came in

"Hello brother" Vilkas greeted amicably… and then he saw that his brother looked a little… tired?

"What's wrong?" Vilkas asked his twin as he took a seat next to him on the bed.

"Skjor and Alea want to turn Gunnar" Farkas said bluntly.

"Turn?" Then he realized what Farkas meant and the sheer shock of it felt like a punch to the gut "They want to curse him with beast blood?!"

"Keep your voice down" Farkas whispered.

Vilkas took in a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs until the point of pain, and then let it out until not a bit of the air remained. He repeated this process several times until he felt his anger fall enough to vocalize words.

"Why?" He growled out.

"Because he's proven himself worthy apparently" Farkas said "And he didn't reject the idea of our curse"

"That doesn't give them the right to curse him" Vilkas growled.

"They want to give him the choice, like they gave us" Farkas said "And, like we did, he can choose to accept it".

"But still, those two know that we are divided now over the beast blood, we are close to tearing each other's throats out, why would Alea and Skjor do this?"

"I don't know, it's hard to tell with those two sometimes because they've become so in-tune to their beasts" Farkas said "It's hard knowing what they are deciding, and what their beasts are deciding through them"

"When do they plan on it?" Vilkas asked.

"Tonight, though right now Skjor is vomiting up all that mead he drank, so right now would be the best-"

Vilkas was out the room before Farkas could finish speaking.

* * *

Gunnar was lounging back in his bed, skimming through a book he had found in a dungeon. It was an older book on the use of shields from basic tips and tricks to advanced shield fighting battle tactics, similar to the techniques that the pup had used when he had tested the old warrior. The old warrior was curious to how and why the knight would use them.

He flipped the page and heard the soft clicking of the door opening. The older Nord looked up and was surprised to see Alea there. He thought she was helping Skjor throw up the results of that drinking game they had had. Or perhaps keeping his fellow old warrior's bed warm for the night.

"Hello lass, looking for someone?" Gunnar asked.

"Yes, you," She smiled.

"Well, you found me, so might I ask what you need of me?" Gunnar smiled, wary to what the young archer had in mind.

"I want to show you something," She smiled.

"What something?" Gunnar asked. "Because this is a very good book."

"Just come with me." Alea said, walking forward until she stood by Gunnar's side. And at that point, Gunnar had two ideas of what the girl had in mind, and neither of them was any good.

"Can't it wait until morning?" Gunnar whined.

"No, it can't." She practically purred, reaching out to touch his face. But he quickly smacked it away, quickly sitting up to get the little bit away from her.

"What?" She asked, looking terribly confused and perhaps a touch hurt.

"Nothing lass," Gunnar sighed before getting to his feet. "Now, what do you want to-"

Vilkas appeared in the doorway, dressed in nothing but a pair of trousers. The young knight looked rather flustered and Gunnar could not help but grin at his unintended savior.

"Hello pup, couldn't resist but seeing me so soon?" Gunnar teased.

"Don't listen to her Gunnar!" Vilkas suddenly barked, forcing what little breath he had caught back out in a burst of sound.

"Huh? About what pup?" Gunnar asked.

"She wants to curse you with beast blood," Vilkas growled out, glaring daggers at Alea.

"It's not a curse, it's a blessing!" Alea snapped at him.

"It's a curse! Sure you're stronger now, but you'll be nothing more than an animal. Both during your long life and after your death," Vilkas snapped right back. "And you are not going to condemn a man like Gunnar to that living hell"

"But he can have glory like he has never seen, power and strength in spades, enhanced senses. Not to mention a life time of hunting after death as a glorious hunter for Hircine" Alea shot back.

"Forever cursed to be a hunting dog, you mean! And not just after death, but during your life with the curse!" Vilkas roared, getting in her face.

"Dog?! So is that what we are now?!" Alea screamed "Dogs!?"

Before Vilkas could spit out anything else, a large hand clouted his ear as well as Alea's, hard. The sudden and immense pain that he had not felt since he was a rebellious child made him yelp loudly.

"OUCH!" Alea and Vilkas barked.

"Are you two done now?" Gunnar said with the seriousness of a father, thick arms folded across his chest.

"What the hell was that for?!" Alea whined, rubbing her sore ear.

"Well if you two are going to argue like children, why not treat you like children?" Gunnar said bluntly.

"That hurt!" Vilkas groaned, though a certain giddiness was fluttering about his stomach.

"Good." Gunnar said. "Now, I'm going to talk to Kodlak about this. About you" Here he pointed an accusing finger at Alea "Trying to make anyone a werewolf. Whether or not I take it is another matter entirely."

"But, Gunnar," Vilkas tried desperately.

"I know pup. You're worried about me and it's touching, but I'm old enough to know what I want now and after my death," Gunnar sighed. "And I don't need two younglings arguing about it!"

He walked out of the room, letting the two Companions nurse their smarting ears, glaring daggers at each other.

"You fucking bitch" Vilkas snarled thickly.

"You spineless bastard" Alea hissed back.

And then several things happened within a second timeframe.

Vilkas threw a punch at Alea's gut and Alea threw a kick at Vilkas's groin, both hits landed with bone crunching efficiency, and both ended up on the ground nursing new pains.

They got up a moment later and both shot each other foul glares until finally they meandered back to bed. Alea hunched over and Vilkas walking with a noted limp.

* * *

Vilkas lay in bed, terrified over Gunnar's fate.

Would the old warrior take the cursed blood and become one of them? A beast blessed with immense strength now, but cursed to become a glorified hunting dog after death? If he did, would it change him? Would it make him wild and animal like? As the beast blood has done to so many other Companions or would he become the master of it?

Or would he refuse it? Would he choose to remain human, choosing Sovngarde over power? Would he choose to reap the benefits of his honor, and live in eternal glory after his death?

Maybe the morning would yield some answers.

* * *

When the sun rose over the horizon, Vilkas was just strapping on his armor. He did not bother packing his things, because he figured that he had angered the old man and the old warrior would not want the knight along any more.

Vilkas first grabbed a few light things to eat from the kitchen, quickly wolfing them down before going outside.

He was going to go train, to get his mind straight or at least off Gunnar. He would likely stay out there for a few hours practicing his swing, before going and taking a few jobs within the hold. After that he could return to his own bed that night, so he could try his damned best not to dream or fantasize about that old warrior.

He opened the back doors, and was surprised to see Gunnar was sitting at one of the tables just outside the back doors. He was reading through a book, occasionally flipping a page with a quick flick of his wrist.

Vilkas gathered what bravery he had left and went over to the old man's side.

"Morning," He greeted.

"Huh?" Gunnar looked up at the knight standing next to him, one eye bleary with sleeplessness. "Oh, Oh! Morning pup!" His grin had to be the brightest and most beautiful thing in Nirn.

"Have you been reading out here all night?" Vilkas asked.

"It appears so." Gunnar sighed, rubbing his eye and setting the book.

Vilkas took a seat next to Gunnar and glanced at the book. It was a known book on shields, and Vilkas vaguely wondered why the man would be reading such as thing when the older Nord used two handed weapons.

"So pup, why are you up so early?" Gunnar asked.

"I wanted to train," Vilkas said.

"I thought we were going out and adventuring today" Gunnar teased.

"…I didn't… I thought… I thought you would be mad at me… about last night."

"What? Last night? Nah! You were worried about these old bones." Gunnar grinned, "And I love you all the more for it."

Vilkas' face burned a bright red, which made the older Nord laugh hard and loud.

"I kid pup, but if it makes you feel better, I don't think I'll be taking the blood," Gunnar smiled. "Too much trouble for my simple, old soul. Not to mention if I did that would put me squarely between four fighting werewolves… and I for one am not crazy enough to do that… just yet"

Vilkas could not help but let out a relieved sigh and a bit of a chuckle. So he would not have to worry about one more soul signing them-self away to Hircine. And even if he, himself, would be cursed to be a glorified hunting dog, at least Gunnar would be here where he belonged, with all the other great warriors.

"Though, now I'm trying to look for a cure with Kodlak," Gunnar smirked.

"A cure? Is it possible?" Vilkas asked.

"Not sure. We're looking into a few things right now, so we can't say for sure," Gunnar sighed. "But we're trying."

"To be cured… that would be amazing," Vilkas breathed.

"Then I'll make sure to find it, just for you pup," Gunnar teased, winking at the knight.

The old warrior scratched at his stubble covered jaw and then along the scar over his bad eye.

"…Can I ask what happened to your eye?" Vilkas asked, trying to keep blood from going where it was not supposed to.

Gunnar chuckled, rubbing the prominent scar.

"I was hoping to avoid this…" He chuckled nervously.

"What's wrong?" Vilkas asked, worrying that he had yet again, reopened an old wound.

"I lost my eye to a werewolf," Gunnar grinned.

"…oh," Vilkas said, not sure what to say.

"Don't worry, it was when I was younger then you," Gunnar smiled "Not to mention I was the one that picked a fight with the damned thing, an error of my young age I suppose"

"And how old are you now?" Vilkas smirked.

"Now, now, no need to go down that road," Gunnar laughed.

They laughed together, until the sun finally rose and Whiterun finally arose for the day. And when Kodlak came outside, looking for the two, they were chatting amicably.

"Good morning to you two," Kodlak smiled.

"Morning Harbinger," Vilkas greeted.

"Morning my fellow old man," Gunnar grinned.

"Off adventuring for the day, or are you willing to take a few jobs for me?" Kodlak asked.

"We can put off adventuring for a bit and take a few jobs," Gunnar said. "What'cha got?"

"We've got two near Windhelm that both require two Companions, willing to take them?" Kodlak asked, holding up the notes with the job information on them.

"Absolutely," Gunnar grinned before turning to Vilkas. "Better pack pup, it's going to take a few days back and forth."

"Right, you better be ready to go when I am," Vilkas smiled, before getting up and leaving to pack, leaving the Harbinger and the old warrior.

The two old warriors watched the young knight leave, waiting for the doors to close behinf him before speaking again.

"So… I see what you meant by, 'your problem'" Kodlak laughed heartily "A man your age, struck with a tied tongue"

Gunnar grinned hopelessly at his fellow old timer

"Shut up, it's… been awhile since this sort of thing has happened" Gunnar laughed.

"Gunnar, you're old enough to have fathered a child his age. You should be a master of this sort of thing"

"Don't remind me that I'm old enough to be his father. It makes me… feel like a pervert" Gunnar sighed "Now are you going to help me, or watch me trip and stumble around like a fool?"

"Well, to be honest… Vilkas doesn't talk to me as much as he used to. He's a man that usually let's things get bottled on the inside. Hell Gunnar, I don't even know if he likes men" Kodlak sighed, patting Gunnar's shoulder roughly.

"Hmm… maybe I should start pressing him? Anyway, thanks for the help anyway, you useless old turd!" Gunnar laughed, even as Kodlak threw the other Nord's book at the back of the fleeing old warrior's head.

* * *

First, let me say, I am so sorry. I wanted to have had two more chapters out by now, but something happened. Something soul kicked down my door, beat my ass senseless and then handed my beaten carcass back to me in a hat. So I've been zonked out on allergy and then cold meds all week. Hopefully I made up with it with the slightly extended length and i hope to have another chapter out in the next couple of hours with a little something-something extra for you guys.

Again, I'm sorry.

PS Why did no one tell me that Vilkas wasn't actually a knight? He's just a warrior! Ugh, fuck it, he's a knight now. I've come this far calling him that, might as well stick to it TT_TT

Love ya pups!


	12. Chapter 12

Like their adventure before, Gunnar chatted a lot as they simply walked to their destination, as Gunnar had a rather fond and distrust for horse-drawn carts for some reason. Besides, the extended time spent traveling meant that they had a great deal of time to simply talk. And that meant ample time to get closer to him, wither the knight would admit that he liked it or not.

As they left Whiterun far behind, Vilkas could not help but pop the question that both relived him and bothered him at the same time.

"So, you aren't going to accept the beast blood?" Vilkas asked.

"Nah" Gunnar chuckled "Like I said, just too much trouble for my old soul. I mean, being stronger, having enhanced senses and having a powerful transformation? That'd be great and all, but being damned to being a hunting dog after death? Doesn't sound like such a great trade off to me, and all this fighting between the lot of you? I may have been stupid enough to try and fight a werewolf when I was a kid, but to willing put myself in a fight with four other werewolves? I may not be that smart, but I am also not that much of a fool"

The knight could not help but smile. He had been so worried that Gunnar would be condemned to the living nightmare of being a werewolf. The constant worry about transformations, the flares of anger and primal wants and needs, the need to hunt and so on and so forth, as well with the horror of what would come after death. While it would have meant suffering with someone that he could have a different attachment to other then his brother, it meant not condemning another soul as Hircine's glorified pet dog.

"I'm glad" Vilkas smiled.

"Alea ain't, I'm sure she's going to tear me a new one when I get back. Fiery young thing that she is" Gunnar laughed nervously.

Well, since they were on the subject of women, and a particularly attractive woman at that, Vilkas decided to attempt to ask the question that would determine if their… relationship, would go no farther than brothers or go further than that.

"Speaking of which, Alea seems quite… eager… to get attached to you. Shown interests have you?" Vilkas asked subtly.

"In her? She may be young, energetic and a great warrior, but sadly her temper is rather off putting. I can't like a woman that I worry that she'll tear my balls off if I say the wrong thing" Gunnar laughed "Besides, there's someone else I've got my heart set on"

Vilkas' heart stumbled along. So the old warrior was no interested in Alea, a true figure of a woman with her curves and skimpy armor as well as her feminine features. But, Gunnar was still interested in someone else. And he seemed rather cryptic about this person.

"Mind indulging?" Vilkas tried.

"No, because I want to find out if they are interested first. I can't have you blabbing and then make a fool of myself if this person is not interested" Gunnar teased "Besides, why are you asking me all these questions about relationships? A guy like you has got to be hooked up with someone"

Vilkas felt an ice lump form in his chest and a bitter scowl carved into his face. He stared at the ground and felt something foul and bitter on his tongue.

"..Pup?" Gunnar asked, sounding worried.

"I'd rather not talk about it" Vilkas muttered.

"…Pup?" Gunnar asked, reaching out to grab the knight's arm.

The warm and strong grip on his arm made the knight give pause. Could he show his broken heart to the warrior, with no sort of sour consequences? Besides, he did not want Gunnar pitying him, or treating him like a broken doll because of some prick.

"I… recently just ended a relationship" Vilkas said "It… was pretty bad"

"Oh… sorry to hear that, pup. Can I ask why and how?" Gunnar asked softly.

Vilkas felt that bitterness turn vile and sour and wanted to be sick. Recalling why the relationship had ended and how it had ended. Both were equally bad, painfully and on humiliating on deep levels. And… it hurt to remember either of them.

"…why… he hurt me both physically and emotionally…how… I had to get my brother to do it, because I couldn't face him" Vilkas muttered, feeling Gunnar's hand slacken and then leave, leaving a icy cold spot that longed for more.

Gunnar was silent for a moment. The older Nord was silent for a very long moment, and for a very long moment the knight was sure that the older Nord's entire opinion of him was changing into something that the knight was sure to sour any sort of friendship they had. After all, before hand, Gunnar seemed to have some sort of respect for Vilkas' skills, even if he did tease and poke. Would he think otherwise if Gunnar knew now, that deep down, Vilkas was hurt?

It also made Vilkas want to be sick.

"So… some guy out there actually got to your heart and then screwed it all up for himself? What kind of stupid fucker is this guy? I mean, seriously!?"

Surprised by the angered outburst, Vilkas glanced over to see Gunnar glaring at the road ahead. He seemed, genuinely upset. He seemed like a riled up father that had just found out one of his kids had their heartbroken. And… well the bitterness went away.

"By the Nine! I mean, there's the obvious fact that you're part of the Companions and he could bring down the wraith of all those trained warriors and werewolves, but you yourself are a trained warrior! What in the bloody Oblivion was this fucker thinking?! And then there's you! Who would break your heart, you're a great guy! Sure, you can get kinda cranky and cold, but deep down there's a heart of gold" Gunnar raged "I mean… ah screw it. After these jobs I am going to personally beat this son of a bitch senseless. Just on a manner of principle, and because this man obviously has not-"

"Gunnar, Gunnar!" Vilkas said, trying to calm the Nord down before he just marched back home "It's alright, it's alright!"

"How can you say that? If you're defending that fucker-" Vilkas cut him off with a

"Farkas broke his nose after telling him that it was over" Vilkas explained "My brother even went and broke his knee, telling the man to never show his face in Whiterun again"

"… He got off easy" Gunnar grumbled.

"Aye, Farkas spent an hour detailing exactly what he wanted to do to the man, just to make me feel better" Vilkas said.

With nothing else to do, or really anything to say without tugging on reopened wounds, the two continued walking. They walked a bit slower, probably slowly digesting what had just occurred. Perhaps Gunnar was still mad about the other bastard's lack of proper punishment. Perhaps Vilkas was trying to sooth the agitated wounds of his soul.

And then Gunnar reached out and wrapped an arm around Vilkas' shoulder and yanked him close. And no matter how hard the knight thrashed, or how loud he yelled or how hard Vilkas blushed, Gunnar would not let go. So Vilkas was forced to try to walk awkwardly, practically clinging to the older Nord. While it was nice clinging to Gunnar's muscular body, trying to walk while doing so was… was well, awkward.

"I want you to know pup, I will always love you" Gunnar then slipped his hand over Vilkas' mouth and then persisted to pretend to wildly kiss Vilkas, much to the knight's wildly flailing cringe. And the longer and wilder Gunnar went on, the brighter and hotter that Vilkas blushed and the hotter his body felt.

When Gunnar pulled away and let his hand slip, Vilkas' face was bright red and he was panting.

Gunnar stared for a moment, before a rather… strange smile crossed his face. It made something down south twitch in interest.

"Say pup, you look rather good when you're all hot and bothered" Gunnar nearly purred.

Blood dropped down the wrong way, and Vilkas squeaked loudly.

"Holy shit, did you just squeak? That's so cute!" Gunnar laughed, before Vilkas lashed out and struck him upside the head.

He still laughed, but Vilkas got what he wanted in the end.

Gunnar was open minded at the very least, he was not interested in Alea, and perhaps Vilkas could get Gunnar's attention over this mysterious crush of the older Nord's.

Perhaps.

* * *

Walking to Windhelm, Gunnar seemed in much higher spirits then Vilkas had ever seen. The old man was practically bouncing as he went on and on, teasing and prodding Vilkas at every turn. It was like the old warrior got some great news or something, which made Vilkas question exactly the older Nord was thinking about.

But it was nice to see the man so happy, because being around Gunnar already made Vilkas feel better. Being around him while he was so happy… it brought a sort of lightness to the knight's chest that seemed to wash the remnants of the bitterness away. While it sadly did not wash away the memories of the almost kiss that they had, and Vilkas found himself blushing every time his mind wondered that way.

Eventually it did grow dark, so they had to set up camp for the night. They chose to just make it under the cover of some trees. Using some dry sticks and some flint, they started a cozy fire to set their bedrolls next to.

Gunnar insisted on telling Vilkas a bedtime story, much to the knight's blushing cringe. And then persisted to tell Vilkas about a battle between him and an Altmer mage.

"And after throwing a fireball at my head, I finally put my boot in that crazy mage's gut and put 'em down" Gunnar laughed.

"And then what happened?" Vilkas asked, already comfortably laid out in his bedroll.

"Then? Then we got to talk and we ended up… getting to know each other better" Gunnar grinned "And he was a very talented mage"

"…He?"

"Yeah, bit broad shouldered for a elf, but he was very- Pup? You okay?"

Vilkas had turned his back to Gunnar because his face was red and he was painfully and obviously erect.

Holy shit, Gunnar was into guys. Vilkas' heat was singing in his chest.

* * *

It got cold before long from heading so far north, and making camp in the wilderness seemed less and less appealing as more and more snow fell. So they decided to just charge forward and walk until they hit the city before resting in the tavern for the night. It would save some time and make it more enjoyable to sleep rather than shivering the night away in the cold.

As it turned out, they could make quite a bit of distance when they were focused on moving. Because they made it to Windhelm at the crack of dawn the next day, and while they were tired as fuck, they knew that they could sleep for a few hours and still make it to the job with such timely grace that it would leave a good impression on the Companions.

"Ah, Windhelm" Gunnar said the two shoved open the city doors "Home of the worst of the racist Nords there are, as well as a substantial Dunmer and Argonian population. Those poor, poor bastards"

Vilkas could not help but quirk an eyebrow.

"You believe the lot here racist?" He asked.

"And are you saying that you don't think so?" Gunnar asked.

"No, just not many Nords like to admit that one another are racist" Vilkas admitted.

Gunnar barked out a laugh before leading the way to the close by tavern that promised warm beds, mead and hot food. When the old warrior opened the door, it took Vilkas' eyes several seconds to lay on the figure. But only half of one for the horror to sink in if this figure's person.

Sitting at the counter, drowning himself in mead, with a crooked nose and his bum leg bound, was Sindri.

Also known as the man that broke Vilkas' heart.

* * *

Second chapter as promised, as well as the something-something.

PS. Sindri is an NPC that I made, he is not an NPC in any of the Elder Scroll games, nor any Dragonborns that I know. If this is the name of your Dragonborn (or OC peoples in general) I am sorry, but I don't think that I can give up a name that one of it's possible meanings is 'sparkling' it's just too funny.

There might be a little something-something spicier in the next chapter, if I can tear myself away from MinecCraft and my recent medieval castle idea.


End file.
